Canopus
by XxZuiliu
Summary: Throw a pebble into a pond, and watch the ripples tear through its surface. And remember, just because these ripples aren't as eye-catching when thrown amidst high ocean waves, doesn't mean they don't exist. OC, drabble-ish format ["Sequel" to Polaris]
1. I-X

_For in life we find death, and in death we find life._

* * *

**I.**

"_Mama, Papa, can I stay with you tonight?"_

_A small, diminutive girl. Choppy raven hair and dark gray eyes. Her feet shuffle together as she glances down; thin, reedy arms tightening around the tattered teddy bear in her hold._

"_Oh, sweetie." Larger arms circle down and embrace the young child, stuffed animal and all. "Are you having another of those nightmares? Goodness, I thought I already told your brothers to watch their horror films somewhere else. Did they scare you again, darling?"_

_The little girl doesn't reply and shivers instead, curling closer to her mother, who pats her consolingly._

"_There, there. You can sleep with Mama and Papa again tonight, okay? Mama and Papa will chase away all the monsters for you."_

_A small sniffle, and the woman hefts the tiny girl onto her hip, pressing a comforting kiss to the young child's forehead. The man behind them finally sets down the newspapers in his hands and walks over, adding a kiss of his own as he embraces the both of them._

"_Don't worry, don't worry. It's just a dream. Mama and Papa will make the bad dreams go away."_

…

_Except._

_Except they don't._

_She wakes up screaming and crying and clutching hysterically at her parents. They shower her with hugs and kisses and whispers of endearments and reassurances to ground her to the safety of reality instead of the terrors of imagination, but it takes a long time before the distraught little girl even begins calming down again and go back to sleep._

"_Don't be scared of dreams, honey. They're not real. Mama and Papa are here with you, so everything will be fine. Everything will be fine. Just breathe and relax, and those bad dreams will all go away. Everything will be fine."_

_The little girl nods, hiccupping between shaky sobs._

…

_She's a good little girl, so she listens to her parents as they continue to mutter sweet nothings into her ear. She breathes and relaxes and closes her eyes again._

_Except._

_Except it's another lie._

_The dreams come back again, and with a vengeance._

…

"_Relax, sweetie. You're fine." Hugs and kisses and sweet nothings. The terrified girl continues screaming. "Don't fret, the nightmares will disappear soon."_

_Except._

_They._

Don't.

…

… _The nightmares never go away._

**II.**

She blinks, and there it is again.

A shapeless man is slumped on the ground. She doesn't recognize him. She doesn't recognize any of them. She's only aware of a feeling vaguely akin to satisfaction ringing in her hollow chest when she turns away from the sluggishly bleeding corpse, eerily calm and composed with a slight upwards tilt at the edge of her lips.

And it _scares_ her.

Because this is nauseating, disgusting, and all she wants to do right now is run into her Mama's arms where it's warm and safe and _everything will be alright_.

(Oh gods, how she wants to believe those words so _much _except it never is, never works–)

She doesn't want to see this.

She doesn't want to see the way the screaming man's skin peeled back so easily to reveal goblets and rivulets of ruby-red blood, doesn't want to see how easy it was to snap her fingers and watch his bones grind into dust, doesn't want to see how she simply lowered her hand and the man's body just seized and distorted and _ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod_ _what'sgoingongetmeoutgetmeoutI'mscaredthiscan'tbehappeningit'snotit'snot_-

A low whistle sounds behind her, and a warm hand lands on her shoulder. She opens her mouth to scream, except nothing comes out from her throat.

"Huh, what did this one do?"

She responds with a voice that is-but-isn't her own.

"He's a warning to the rest of them." A casual gesture at the bloody pulp on the ground. She feels nauseous and tries to close her eyes, except they remain stubbornly open despite her fervent wishes. "A warning that I will not tolerate their transgressions a second time."

Horror envelopes her like a shroud when she finally registers these cold, careless words. Speaking as if this man wasn't even another human being, as if he was somehow worth even less than the dirt beneath her feet, _how could any decent person act this way_–

"Hmm." The man behind her tousles her hair affectionately. "Try being a little less bloody next time, then? The bloodstains are always hard to wash out."

She tries to scream again, and this time, she manages to make sound.

Except, all that comes out of her mouth is a lighthearted laugh that chills her to her core.

"I'll keep that in mind."

**III.**

_A set of doors slide open, and an immaculately-dressed doctor walks in with a clipboard in hand._

"_Nakamura-san, was it?" The woman sitting in the office chair looks up at the sound of his voice. "We've finished the preliminary diagnosis on your daughter's condition just now, but would you mind answering a few questions so we can get a clearer grasp on the problem at hand? We would appreciate a more comprehensive view of her condition before deciding on the treatment and medications."_

"_Yes, yes, of course."_

"_Alright. Thank you for your cooperation, Nakamura-san. Shall we begin, then?"_

_The doctor shuffles his papers before glancing up at the woman sitting across his desk again._

"_How long has your daughter been having these nightmares of hers?"_

_Professional, prompt, to-the-point. A detached sort of interest lingering in his words._

"_Well…" the woman hesitates briefly, a small frown briefly creasing her brow as she tried to recall the information. "It's been going on for several months now, I think. She came to my husband and I about them at the beginning of this month, though I think I've heard her thrashing around in her sleep before that on occassion. My older sons, they've developed an interest in horror movies as of late, and I'm afraid that it might've…"_

"_Ah, I see." The doctor nodded, writing a few notes in the margins of the documents in front of him. "Alright. Now, do you know if she has…"_

…

…

…

When will this stop?

I'm not crazy.

I'm _not_.

(… Am I?)

Sometimes, I hear them. The voices. Hundreds of voices, buzzing in my mind. Saying things that I don't understand and shouldn't understand and somehow still do.

When will this stop?

…

…

…

"…_have her try these medications for now. Thrice a day, and also take these pills before she sleeps. Continue this for a month or so, and if there's still no change in her condition, then come back to the clinic again and we'll try a different prescription. Have a good day, Nakamura-san."_

**IV.**

Blink.

Sunlight. Sunlight filters in through frayed window frames and thick, dusty glass. Not moonlight. Not moonlight filtering in through tall French windows made with a craftsmanship that makes the glass look as if it was crystal.

Blink.

Blankets. Warm cotton blankets, coarse fabric. Not swan feathers and silk and velvet and whatever extravagant materials covering her body to protect her from the cold.

Blink.

Her room. The ceiling is slanted because she sleeps in the attic so as not to disturb the rest of the family when her nightmares come. It's small and cramped here in an oddly nice sort of way and the floorboards are made of wood. Wood, not marble.

She looks down at her hands.

A little pale from lack of sunlight, but nonetheless still glowing with a healthy pallor. Normal hands. Not bone-thin and sickly pale and dripping with bl–

_No, no, don't think about it!_

…

It's okay.

Everything will be fine.

Everything will be fine.

_Everything will be fine._

…

Maybe if she repeats the mantra enough, it'll finally work?

(She doesn't hold her breath on that thought.)

**V.**

"_Onii-chan, onii-chan!"_

_The young boy looks down to see his little sister tugging at the leg of his pants, bottom lip quivering and glassy-eyed with tears. It's nothing new; she's always been rather jumpy and clingy –so with a hidden long-suffering sigh, he swings her onto his lap before turning back to his homework again, inwardly sighing in exasperation._

_Except. _

_Instead of quietly clutching to him like she usually does in these cases, she starts _crying.

_To his credit, Sousei doesn't panic, even though he's suddenly at a complete loss as for what to do. He doesn't know how to deal with crying girls; their mother is out grocery shopping and their father is at work and Yuuto ran off to play baseball again, curse the little devil–_

_(Okay, so maybe he's panicking a little. Just a little. )_

… _Was this another of the 'fits' that Mother told him to watch out for? What was he supposed to do?_

_(Mother, leave better instructions next time!)_

"_Onii-chan," the little girl wails, and it takes considerable effort on Sousei's part not to flinch away when she bursts into another round of fresh tears. "Don't run off and get into fights! And… and… don't play with swords… and…"_

_Nonsensical words run together, and Sousei awkwardly hugs his little sister as she rambles on and on about monsters that aren't real and terrifying things that only exist in her mind. Geez. Looks like that latest doctor was another scammer. He honestly couldn't see how it was good for sleeping pills to be recommended for one so young, anyways… and it wasn't even like she had some sort of mental trauma to need them, right? _

_Right._

_It was only the nightmares._

_She just… had a very active imagination that might've gotten a little carried away with the horror films Yuuto used to bring back and watch with him in the name of 'brotherly bonding.' Sousei hadn't so much as even touched another horror film after the first time their little sister had went to the doctor for her nightmares, but it seemed like those nightly terrors of hers weren't going to be stopping anytime soon._

_Mentally, he sighed again, tightening his arm around the little girl._

… _At least there were some nights when she was actually able to sleep peacefully. Thank goodness for small mercies._

**VI.**

There it is again.

Roses and daffodils and lilies and hydrangeas; all sorts of flowers that she knows and all sorts of flowers that she can't even begin to name; all in full bloom in the beautiful garden that wouldn't be out of place in the fairyland storybooks.

(Thank goodness for small mercies. This is one of the times where there's no blood no gore no death no–)

"Little miss, would you like a cup of chamomile?"

A small smile curls at the corner of her lips, even though she hasn't moved.

"That would be lovely, Alfredo."

Bone-thin hands that are much too pale to be her own reach out and gently receive the delicate teacup offered by the old butler standing beside her.

Happiness.

Contentment.

Emotions that she has never felt before, not like this, but a feeling almost _tangible _that beats in her chest and fills her with an indescribable warmth, fingers tingling–

"The mistress is asking for you again, little miss. She seems adamant that you move out of the West Wing. "

Vague amusement as the warm feelings fade a little.

"Really now? My answer won't change, no matter how many times she… insists upon it. Father approached me the other day about it, too, and I refused."

A sip of tea.

"Wise choice, little miss."

"Thank you, Alfredo."

She hears the words and understands them, but for some reason she still thinks she's missing the entire point of the conversation.

… Well.

Who knows?

It certainly wouldn't be the first time if she did.

**VII.**

_The first time that Yuuto realizes that his baby little sister isn't normal is when a random man on the street walks up and shoots glitter spray at him._

…

… _Ridiculous, you say?_

_This is how it happens:_

_His baby little sister is sleeping in the basket-carrier-thingymabobber like all infants do, while Mama is shopping for something inside the store. It's only for a moment, and since the store doesn't allow young children inside –so he's just standing there, kicking at pebbles on the cracked edge of the sidewalk, with his little baby sister sleeping sedately beside him._

_Then _it_ happens._

"_Oi. Kid."_

_Yuuto turns around almost lazily at the growl of an unfamiliar voice, an annoyed "What?" lingering on his lips, before he freezes._

_Cuz. Well._

_What would _you _do if you were just standing at the corner of a store, kicking pebbles and minding your own business and waiting for Mama, and suddenly a creepy-looking gangster man popped out of nowhere and is pointing a gun at you?_

_So he opens his mouth and–_

"_Scream and I'll shoot, kid."_

–_and it's too late because he's already screaming and the man's eyes narrow and he shoots anyways and ohmygodI'mgonnadie–_

_Except._

…

_A burst of gold and silver sparkles are all that come forth from the tip of the gun._

_His jaw snaps shut with an audible clack and he instantly feels the blood rushing towards his cheeks; embarrassment, at being caught in what was obviously a mere prank–_

_But then Yuuto looks up at the man's expression and he feels his blood run cold. _

_Because the man looks just as shocked as he does._

"_What in the world–?" The gangster-man is looking down the barrel of his gun now, confusion etched in every line of his face, and he pulls the trigger again and–_

_Ohmygod._

Ohmygod.

OHMYGOD.

_(Blood.)_

_(Blood.)_

_(Blood.)_

…

_Yuuto… doesn't really remember what happened after that, other than a lot of screaming._

_What he does remember, though, through that haze of absolute fear and panic –his little sister's hazel eyes wide open and staring at the spot where the blood is pooling and painting the sidewalk a brilliant redred_red_, and then those tiny lips are curving into a small smile that looks completely wrongwrong_wrong _on an infant's face._

_And then, in a sudden moment of perfect clarity, he knows._

_He _knows.

_(Oh gods, his sister isn't even a year old and she just– just–)_

…

… _But who will believe him?_

_No one._

No one.

…

_Isn't it funny?_

_Sousei isn't even related to them by blood, and he's still more of a brother to his baby little sister than Yuuto has ever been, and ever will be._

_Part of him knows he should be ashamed by this, but another part of him –the part that always and forever remembers the blood and the screaming and the ohmygodI'mgonnadie– really, really, _really_ couldn't care less about it all, as long as she stays far, far, _far_ away from him._

_(Because a part of him can never forget the way those cold hazel eyes stared unfeelingly at the redred_red_ blood.)_

**VIII.**

_Who are you?_

Only three simple little words, and somehow she can't dislodge them from her throat.

She's sitting in a boat. Dark waters stretch as far as the eye can see under a thousand-star-speckled sky. A foggy white mist curls gently on top of the waves, softly lapping at the waters, and she squints at the humanoid shape faintly silhouetted in the distance of the strange, unnatural mist.

_Who are you? _She tries to ask again, but still nothing comes out. She coughs, trying to clear her throat –and _that _sound comes out perfectly fine– but when she tries to speak again her voice is gone.

Frustrating, really.

…

The humanoid shadow's face is tilted upwards towards the starlit heavens, as she is steadily ignored, and she struggles to speak again, because somehow, intuitively, she knows that this is _important_.

So.

…

_Who are you?_

**IX.**

Her name is Setsu.

Nakamura Setsuko is a quiet girl, the youngest of three children. She's antisocial and doesn't have many friends, so she spends most of her free time drawing and painting in the backyard of the rickety old house. Her dream is to become a famous artist one day so she can move her family out of their run-down home and into a nice one, preferably one with marble floors and tall French windows that are rimmed with sunlight all the time.

Both of her parents have divorced their previous spouses before meeting and marrying each other, and while they have no children between them who shares both of their blood, three children from their earlier marriages are plenty enough for an underpaid accountant and a bakery woman to raise on their own.

Setsu loves her parents and her brothers.

(Privately, in a corner of her own mind, she admits that she likes Sousei best. Better than Yuuto, for all that Mama tells her that Yuuto is her _actual _brother.)

Because Sousei is nice and listens to her ramblings and never brushes her off when he's tired or when it's two o'clock in the morning. For as long as she can remember, ever since her parents told her that she was a 'big girl' now and couldn't keep running to Mama and Papa for every little nightmare with dark rings under their eyes, she'd been running to Sousei instead –because Sousei didn't mind a terrified, shaking bundle of cotton blankets bolting into his room in the middle of the night with a blubbering sister inside.

(Or if he did mind, at least he had the decency to not push her away. Not like Yuuto, who panicked when she bowled into him, sniffling and crying, and blindly _shoved _–she still remembers the terror of falling down the stairs and getting a nasty cut on her arm and oh gods the _blood. _She always feels queasy at the sight of blood.)

But.

Even if Yuuto is sometimes a meanie and ignores her for baseball and Sousei is too busy to play with her and Mama and Papa don't come home until midnight –Setsu loves and is loved by her family.

… It's normal, isn't it?

So why does she sometimes feel like crying, for seemingly no reason at all?

Why does she sometimes automatically look around for a grandfatherly man in a butler's outfit when she's alone with the withering roses in the backyard? Why does she sometimes glance up while writing homework and expect to see a tall tutor standing in front of her? Why does she sometimes wake up in the middle of thunderstorms and tiptoe into her brothers' rooms to check to see if they are sleeping well?

Why?

…

**X.**

_Who am I?_

Setsu.

_Who am I?_

Setsuko.

_Who am I?_

Nakamura Setsuko!

…

…

… _Really?_

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Hi all. :3

Welcome to _Canopus, _the quasi-sequel of sorts to _Polaris_. I don't want to call it an official sequel since, well, it's not being told from the perspective of the Stella we all know and love, but from her reincarnation instead. (Or maybe, it actually is Stella we're talking about here? ;3)

To new readers –I highly advise reading _Polaris _first. Unless, well, this first chapter makes sense to you, I guess. xD Still advise reading _Polaris _though, since you'll pick up on a lot more things if you do.

_Canopus. _Where Stella Squalo is reincarnated into Nakamura Setsuko, a Namimori resident. Who knows what'll happen next, eh?

**Special Mention: **Guys, thank **Viiranen** for this sequel. As mentioned in the last _Polaris _AN, I had next to no intentions of ever writing a sequel. Well. After a few PMs with Viiranen my mind got changed, so here you go. :3

Are there any thoughts on _Canopus_ so far? Any predictions on the direction it might take? Anything specific that you might be looking forward to in this tale?

xD

-XxZuiliu


	2. XI-XX

**XI.**

Sometimes, she hears them.

The Voices.

Sitting there on the old wooden stool, a clear crisp of paper pinned to the flat board in front of her, quietly dabbing on pastel colors with the thin paintbrush loosely held between her fingers –and then she hears the voices.

They don't talk to her, not exactly.

It's more like they're… talking to each other, and she only happens to overhear their conversation about _something. _She isn't quite sure what it is, since it's filled with all sorts of strange terms and technical jargons that she doesn't really understand.

Sometimes, it's only a soft whisper in the back of her head, a quiet buzz that's easily ignored.

Sometimes, it's a cacophony of voices screaming at the forefront of her mind, and she'll drop her paintbrush, wincing.

It's not normal.

… Is it?

Because. Well.

It's strange, but Setsu can't recall a time when there _aren't _voices projecting themselves into her mind.

**XII.**

"_Yumei Private Middle School?"_

_Sousei inwardly winces at the surprise and tiny flash of incredulity in his parents' tones. He glances down at the ground, swallowing hard._

"_I… I have the scores for it, and… and their engineering and science courses are really good. Much better than any of the ones at Namimori Middle, so… I was wondering if…"_

"_Sousei," his father sighed, kneeling down to his son's height and hugging the boy. Sousei stiffly returned the hug. "I'm proud of you. I really am; your grades have always been top-notch, and in retrospect… it's not that unbelievable that you'd want to apply to Yumei Middle. I know you'd certainly thrive there. But you're aware of our family's financial position, Sousei, we can't afford to send you to a private–"_

"_I can work!" The boy instantly seizes the opportunity he sees in his father's words, grasping at the chance. "I –I'll find a job to help pay for tuition fees! I don't mind!"_

"_You're too young to be working, Sousei."_

_The young boy bites his lip in frustration._

_He… he'd never asked for much from his parents before, because he was the oldest of his siblings and he had to be responsible and set himself up as a good role model. Their parents were always out working, and it was often left to him to take care of Yuuto and Setsu. He knew he was smart and mature for his age; it set him apart from his classmates. He _didn't _want to go to Namimori Middle –he didn't want to be surrounded by the same kids who teased him for always burying his head in books and running home the moment school was out._

_He wasn't foolish enough to think that he wouldn't be heckled anymore in Yumei Middle, but at least most of the people in Yumei schools were _serious _about their education, which would be one less source of grief for him._

… _Sometimes, Sousei was almost envious of how Yuuto seemed to fold so easily into the mold. Yuuto wasn't at the top of his class in terms of academics, but he was brilliant at baseball, and his friendly, outgoing demeanor–_

_No._

_Jealousy was unbecoming of him._

_He was better than this._

"_Papa, Mama, Onii-chan… is there something wrong?"_

_Setsu. Standing in the doorway, clutching that tattered teddy bear in her arms, blearily rubbing her eyes. When had she gotten here?_

… _There were faint bags under her eyes._

_He abruptly stood up from the table, letting out a soft, irritated sigh as he glanced back over his shoulder at his parents –this conversation wasn't over, not if he still had any say about things– and turned on his heel, striding over to his little sister. Easily slipping her tiny hand into his own, he began herding her back towards the stairs._

"… _Onii-chan?"_

"_How long haven't you slept?"_

_The girl let out a tiny squeak at the sudden reprimand, and he mentally shook his head at that guilty reaction._

"_Why didn't you come find me, then?"_

_His sister mumbled something under her breath._

"_Speak properly, Setsu."_

"… _Didn't wanna distract you, onii-chan." She ducked her head when he suddenly stopped walking and turned to fix his gaze on her in surprise. "You're studying for Yumei's entrance exams, right?"_

_A moment of silence._

_He sighed again, reaching out a hand and ruffling her hair, ignoring the indignant squawk that followed._

"_Don't worry about me. I can handle it."_

_There was a flicker of something warm in his chest from her sentiment, though. After all, Yuuto was always more than happy to knock down the door to his room when he was in the middle of doing revisions just to try out a new video game or something…_

"… _It's okay not to be strong all the time, onii-chan. I can take care of myself. So take care of yourself too, ne?"_

_Startled, he glanced down at his little sister again, who blinked back up at him innocently through hazel eyes._

Knowing _hazel eyes._

**XIII.**

"Nice one, Yuuto!"

"Good job!"

"Thank goodness we have you on our team, haha! Hey, think we can take on Yamamoto's team next time?"

She follows the rowdy voices as she makes her way towards the baseball field. Some of the other kids give her strange looks as she advances –she isn't one of the kids who come to play here every afternoon; she's one of the _young _kids who're obviously dumb and have no idea what they're doing all the time, who shouldn't be walking towards the 'cool kids'– and it doesn't take long before she's standing there and they're _looking_.

… It didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. Huh. Imagine that.

"Onii-chan!" She cups her hands and shouts, because her voice has always been small. "Mama sent me out to find you! You're going to be late for dinner!"

Ebon hair, gray eyes. Setsu spots her brother standing in the middle of the group of boys like he belongs there –and he does. Belong there, that is. At comfort and at ease in the midst of his friends.

"That's your sister, Yuuto?"

"Kinda small, isn't she?"

"Looks frail, too. Ha, I pity whichever team she's on in games –a little weak, right? Build up some muscle, kid!"

Teasing and laughter. There's no real ill intent behind those barbed words. She _knows _that.

So…

…

What's this heavy sensation weighing down on her chest? Why are her hands clenched into fists? Why is she suddenly feeling so clear and detached from everything –_why is Yuuto staring at her like that, why is he–_

"Oi, oi, cut it out, guys!" Why? Why does his laughter sound so forced? "Sorry, but I'll have to skip on the last game. Gotta get home for dinner, y'know?"

… Why does he all but _drag_ her away from his friends?

Why does he sit on the seat farthest from her when they're eating dinner at the table?

Why does he _look _at her like that?

_Why?_

…

… _I'm not a monster, onii-chan!_

**XIV.**

She closes her eyes, and there it is again.

A room. Heavy draperies are tightly drawn across the tall French windows, and not a single sliver of sunlight slips into the room. She can barely make out the outlines of a desk in the corner –and was that a bookshelf over there? Well, she wouldn't know. Her eyesight was blurry and it was hard to make sense of things. To make sense of anything, really.

Then.

Then she hears it: a nasty, rasping cough resounding deep in the lungs.

_Her _lungs.

…

It should be cause for alarm and it is, Setsu _is _alarmed by it, but… somehow, she isn't panicking, and that feeling… was it… resignation?

Bone-thin fingers slowly pry away the blankets covering her body, and she sits up slowly, stiffly, like a puppet on strings. The movements are not made of her own will; Setsu isn't a masochist and moving _hurts_. Head dizzy, limbs burning, something hot scalding the back of her throat–

She blinks, a sudden swirl of indigo lights obscuring her vision.

…

… Miraculously_,_ the pain disappears. As if it never even existed in the first place.

(Which comes as both a surprise and a welcome reprieve to her.)

She proceeds to stand up from the bed she was lying in –what a novel experience; _standing_– and slowly steps over to the tall, curtain-drawn windows of the room.

Pale hand lifting in front of her.

Wiry fingers resting on the edge of the heavy fabric.

Small hesitation.

Then.

She draws open the draperies and is greeted by the world outside. In the reflection of the glass, she can make out the outline of a girl's face; soft hazel eyes and long silver hair –but somehow, that isn't what her attention is focused on at the moment.

The sunlight is blinding.

…

…

…

"… Little miss?"

**XV.**

_What's love?_

_Setsu knows. _

_It's what she feels for her family, isn't it? That warmth in her chest when her Mama smiles at her and when Papa hugs her, and when she curls up to sleep next to Sousei after another nightmare, and… and when Yuuto doesn't mind her doing her homework next to him, and they sit together in companionable silence with the leftovers from Mama's bakery on the table between them. It's what the other girls giggle over when they pass around "secret" photos of the cute up-and-coming baseball star at school who is their popular upperclassman._

_But, sometimes… even though it makes her feel guilty for even letting the thought cross her mind… she can't help but wonder._

_Because._

_Because she remembers._

_She remembers feeling a fierce, searing warmth that's nothing like the soft affection she knows nowadays. She remembers that feeling when looking at a silver-haired boy with golden eyes. Gentle hugs and genuine smiles. Those come few and far between in her life now –even with Sousei around, because she doesn't want to trouble Sousei anymore now that he has to work hard in Yumei Middle to stay at the top of his class. She remembers kissing that silver-haired boy she's never met on the forehead with a feather-light kiss before telling him, "I love you." And _meaning _those words._

_She also remembers a similar sensation when that kindly old butler passes her a cup of tea or pushes her around on a wheelchair. Bright laughter –and is that sound really coming from her own throat?– when they visit the gardens. She carries a parasol on her shoulder, but even so she can feel the warmth of sunlight on her skin, and something tells her that the warmth she feels isn't all completely from the sunlight. _

_She remembers sitting next to a man with charcoal hair and eyes the color of night. At least, that's how he appears to the public world: she remembers watching the glamour melt away like watercolor, the illusion falling away to reveal blue-green hair and teal eyes and a small smile curled at the lips. She remembers him always being by her side, always helping her. Even when she felt like didn't deserve it, he was always there._

… _Is this love? Watching out for someone and never wanting them to come to harm? Being there for them when they needed you?_

_She doesn't know if she needed that raven-haired boy with the beautiful flames, but… there's something tangible-intangible there. A thread of wistfulness, a fragment of hope, a whisper of what might've-been. Something like that, maybe?_

…

… _Okay, so in hindsight, maybe Setsu… doesn't know what love is. Which, well, should be perfectly understandable, right? She's still young. She has a lifetime to find the answer now, not like…_

… _like what?_

_She's not exactly sure what she's referring to anymore. Only that she _knew _the answer, except it was now… somehow, it wasn't…_

…_?_

…

… _What is love, really?_

**XVI.**

"'Write an essay about something you love.'" Yuuto leaned back in his seat as he quoted his teacher, mentally running through a small list, before a bright grin split his lips. "Hah, I already know what my topic is!"

"Baseball, right?" His friend sitting next to him laughed, before jerking a thumb backwards. "Just like Yamamoto over there."

Yuuto gave a sheepish laugh before his gaze slipped towards the direction his friend had pointed in to land on another cheer-faced boy.

Yamamoto Takeshi.

… Who _wouldn't _know him, really?

Charismatic, athletic, pretty. Yes, pretty. Yuuto wouldn't deny the pretty-boy his looks, not when the girls in class 'secretly' squealed over him every morning.

Yamamoto was one of the most popular kids in their grade level –people were always flocking to him, clamoring for his attention. And truth be told, Yuuto wanted to get to know him, too. Yamamoto could certainly throw a mean pitch on the field, and his team could always count on him to hit a home run when game got tough. He was always friendly and smiling and never turned away anyone who came up to him, and got along easily with everyone no matter who they were.

Honestly.

Who _wouldn't _want Yamamoto for a friend?

And certainly, Yamamoto did have a lot of friends. He was always surrounded by a flock of classmates chattering away in his ear about one topic or another in the hallways at school.

But.

…

There was a _reason _why Yuuto didn't go out of his way to befriend his fellow baseball nut.

Because… it was hard to say, and sometimes Yuuto wasn't even quite sure about it himself, but… Something about those cheerful smiles always ran a bit false. Maybe it was just unwarranted paranoia, maybe it was his own imagination…

Yuuto didn't like liars.

Not even if they were friendly and popular and _excellent _at baseball.

"Say, we're all graduating next year." A voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts, "Are you going to that fancy private school your brother is going to?"

"Nah," Yuuto easily turned his attention back to his friend, an automatic smile stretching his lips. "Unlike me, he's actually _good _at studying. And he knows what he wants, so Yumei Middle is good for him. I'll probably be going to Namimori Middle like the rest of you… unless I fail my exams and get held back for a year, though!"

It's nice, laughing together with friends. Yuuto can't imagine his life without his friends distracting him –he can't imagine living like, say, Dame-Tsuna in the class down the hall. He pities the scrawny boy, who's a bit of a pushover and is always bullied by others and never laughs with anyone in school.

For Yuuto, laughter is important, because laughter always helps him forget about the fear.

(Just like how baseball leaves behind nothing but adrenalin and excitement pounding through his veins when it clears his mind of everything else.)

**XVII.**

… _dispatch 032 and 033 to ***** at 1700…_

… _are done. Reports have been sent to 080…_

… _price? No, not unless they are code *****…_

…

_._

…

"…-mura? Nakamura! Nakamura, pay attention in class!"

Setsu jolts up in her seat like a startled rabbit, while her classmates titter around her, mocking and judging her for it. It doesn't bother her as much as it did in the beginning, but sometimes…

"Nakamura, please _kindly _solve the problem for us since you're apparently advanced enough to begin sleeping in the middle of class."

Ick.

… Math is her worst subject.

Setsu squints a little at the problem written on the board, still groggy and half-asleep and mind not entirely registering everything yet.

"Well, Nakamura?"

She suppresses a yawn, knowing her teacher wouldn't appreciate it.

"Th-thirty."

"I expected better of you, Nakamura. When I'm talking in class, students should always be paying attention when I explain how to… wait. What did you say, Nakamura?"

Her tone changed. Her teacher's tone had changed.

Setsu blinked.

"Um, thirty."

Why thirty? Setsu doesn't know. She hadn't really even processed the problem at all, only staring at it with drooping eyes, and somehow the number had automatically been pushed to the forefront of her mind, so she'd said it without thinking.

But by that look on her teacher's face, as if she'd swallowed a lemon or something equally sour…

…

…

…

"That… that's correct, Nakamura."

Huh.

Imagine that.

**XVIII.**

Sousei falls out of his bed in the middle of the night when he hears a scream.

Shrill.

Loud.

Piercing.

_It's the nightmares again._

(It… hasn't sounded this bad for a long, long time. Had it been too much for him to hope that this luck would hold?)

He isn't quite sure how he stumbled up the stairs to the attic, to his little sister's room, but suddenly he's there and he's holding the young child in his arms and she's crying again –just like how it was when they were little, during his earliest memories of adjusting to a new stepmother and two new stepsiblings, one more troublesome than the other–

His parents are here almost immediately after him, running into the room with heavy feet, and even Yuuto is behind them, pale-faced and bleary-eyed. And if that's not a sign of things gone south, Sousei would eat his electronics textbook. If even Yuuto is here, then that's an immediate sign that something is seriously _wrong_, because Sousei knows that Yuuto is scared of Setsu's fits from the nightmares that plagued her and is always reluctant to try and comfort her.

He still hasn't touched another horror movie in all this time. Neither of them have.

"Please," Setsu's voice is as soft as ever, choked by hiccups and strangled by sobs as warm tears roll down her cheeks. Their parents gently pry her from Sousei's arms and into their own. "D-Don't… so many monsters, so much blood… I'm not… I won't… _please be safe_…!"

As always, her ramblings make no sense, and Sousei isn't all too keen on forcing her to relive her nightmare by recounting it to curious ears.

But.

… Would it help?

**XIX.**

"_That's a very pretty lake, Nakamura. Don't you think you should use brighter colors, though? That way it'll look more cheerful."_

_The raven-haired girl shakes her head at her art teacher._

"_No, sensei. This is how it looks, so… I don't think I should try to change it."_

"_Well, if that's how you want it, then." The woman gives the little girl an encouraging smile instead. "Now, what's with all this gray stuff on the surface?"_

"_It's fog."_

"_Fog? Ohhh, I see. Very creative of you to use the brush strokes like that… hmm… oh! Is that someone standing there in the middle? That dark splotch over there?"_

"_Yes, sensei."_

"_How clever! May I ask who it is?"_

_The young child pauses a moment to think over the question._

"… _I don't know."_

**XX.**

Sousei moves on to his final year at Yumei Middle when Yuuto enters his first year at Namimori Middle, and so Setsu finally begins the task of walking to Namimori Elementary on her own every morning to go to school. It's a bit lonely now that Yuuto is gone as well, but when she thinks about it –hasn't there always been something that rang a little hollow in her chest? Something… empty, that was once full?

(Or maybe that's just her imagination, too. Who knows?)

Papa recently received a raise in his salary and Mama was finally able to borrow enough money to open her own pastry shop. Both of them are busier than ever now, but they still do their best to make time for their children. Sometimes, Setsu cuts her afterschool painting sessions short to head over to her Mama's shop and help out any way she can –usually it's just washing the dishes (she's not allowed to touch the knives) and such; menial labor that's easily done even by a girl as small and as young as she is.

Mama always tells her to hang out with her friends more. Setsu never gives a concrete response. She doesn't have friends like Yuuto does, so she has no one to 'hang out' with even if she wanted to. Sousei is always getting dragged off into study sessions by his fellow classmates, an occurrence that was becoming extremely common in the household.

So gradually, her days whittle down to a mixture of school and painting and helping out in the pastry shop. Sometimes Yuuto drops by for a bite with his friends, sometimes Sousei comes to check up on them with a classmate or two. Dinnertime is always a family affair when everyone is together, though, even if Papa sometimes comes home late and her brothers lose track of time and stumble in after him. There is an odd contentment to this life that Setsu is quickly becoming accustomed to: plain and simple and mind-numbingly normal.

And then the fedora-wearing baby comes.

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Hi all. :3

… Didn't expect people to actually be all that interested in _Canopus. _I guess Stella kind of left an impact in _Polaris? _xD

So, I received a few questions about what time period the story is in right now in regards to the KHR timeline. If you've read this chapter, it's probably pretty obvious by now, but I'll say it again here just in case to clear things up: Stella was born _prior_ to KHR canon. Setsu is born _after_ Stella dies. Yes, Setsu is _younger_ than Tsuna&co. She's around the same age as Fuuta.

The chapter is a little more Setsu-centric this time. And yes, we're headed into KHR canon now –main timeline-wise, that is. There'll still be some flashbacks and memories and things that won't make sense until later, though. ;)

As always, please remember to point out any mistakes you see in the text. Don't hesitate to ask questions if you have something you're wondering about! (I'll always try to answer to the best of my ability. :D)

**QUESTION: **… Out of curiosity, is anyone interested in a particular pairing for Stella/Setsu in this fic since she's not scripted to die this time around like she was in _Polaris?_ ;3

Till next time

-XxZuiliu


	3. XXI-XXX

**XXI.**

Setsu is minding her own business, walking to school at the usual pace along her usual route, when she's nearly flattened like a pancake.

"REBORN! CONFESS TO KYOKO WITH MY DYING WILL!"

The little girl barely throws herself out of the way in time and watches –with no small amount of lightheadedness– as a brown-haired boy with a _flame _burning on his forehead charge down the street, kicking up a cloud of dust behind him.

She sits there on the ground for a moment, completely shocked by what'd just happened.

Then:

Woodenly, almost mechanically, she gingerly picks herself up from the ground, brushes down her clothes, and continues walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction.

… _What was that just now?_

**XXII.**

School passes by in a buzz for her that day –and for some reason, her mind keeps flickering back to the flame she saw burning so brightly on the boy's forehead. It was familiar, in a not-familiar sort of way that was almost déjà vu, except… not.

What sort of magic trick was that?

(Was it even a magic trick at all? Somehow, the answer seemed to be a resounding 'No…')

When Yuuto comes home from school that day for dinner, he regales them with a tale of a boy in his class being challenged to a match by the kendo captain for the right to date the school's idol. It was… interesting, to say the least, and Setsu couldn't help but wonder if this boy was the same one who'd almost run her over that morning.

"It's strange," Yuuto remarked lightly, "Other than stripping down to his boxers before the match, it feels like his personality also flipped completely. Sawada was totally motivated for his fight with Mochida. He's usually kinda quiet and tries to blend in with the background."

"Maybe it's just a phase, then?" Mama passed over a platter of potatoes to Yuuto, who accepted it and quickly shoveled a portion of the dish onto his plate before passing it to Sousei next to him. "Kids your age are always changing so quickly these days."

Change?

It was… correct, to a certain extent, but it was also _more _than that. Setsu wasn't quite sure how she knew that –a feeling that was somewhat of a mix between intuition and–

"More rice, Setsu?"

"… Okay, Mama."

**XXIII.**

"-you for him? Losers like Dame-Tsuna should just roll over and die!"

Yuuto didn't mean to stumble onto this scene. He also wishes that he hadn't walked this way to get to his locker, although it's far too late to back away unnoticed. Not that he can, really. His feet seem to be rooted to this spot, eyes fixated on what he saw in front of him, even though he'd never wanted to see it.

Sawada Tsunayoshi… while Yuuto wasn't overly fond of the boy or anything, he also didn't go out of his way to interact with him. He knew the boy was bullied, but what was the point of standing up for people like him? As soon as you weren't around them anymore the bullies would come again, and Sawada would go back to being bullied because he wouldn't stand up for himself.

(Couldn't, more like, but also _wouldn't; _and it was the latter that irked Yuuto more than anything else. That was the main reason that stopped him from reaching out a hand to Sawada years ago, because his eyes were hopeless and dull. Yuuto wasn't _nice, _but he wasn't cruel, either. And neither was he a miracle worker who could save somebody who wouldn't be saved as they sat in a cage of their own making.)

This, however.

… His friends.

His baseball buddies.

The ones he skimmed reading assignments with, the guys he hung out at Mama's pastry shop with, the boys he _laughed_ with every day.

...

They were bullies, too?

He… he'd always thought that they were like _him, _standing on the sidelines and not interfering with Sawada's torment, but at the same time not actually one of the active tormentors themselves. It bothered him –no, it downright unnerved him, because it was like receiving an electric jolt down his spine when he looked at his friends and didn't recognize their eyes anymore, because of that cold glitter of malicious glee lurking there.

How had he missed it before?

"Shut up," the silver-haired Italian transfer student growled, stepping in front of Sawada protectively –and when had Sawada become such good friends with Gokudera when the latter had nearly uplifted the former's desk on his first day here? "Juudaime, may I have permission to eliminate them?"

Juudaime? Tenth? Tenth what? _Eliminate?_

… And holy _shit, _was that _dynamite? _This –wasn't this _illegal _or something? What in the world was–

"Hieee! G-Gokudera, please d-don't go around trying to blow people up!"

Sawada.

… Something was different about him. Usually, where there was that fearful, defeated light in his eyes whenever the bullies came for him, now –the fear was still present, yes, but there was also something else all but _burning _there, something…

… What was it?

What had changed him?

Yuuto wanted to know.

"What, still insistent on being Dame-Tsuna's lapdog?" Keita. Keita was a good pitcher, though nowhere on par with Yamamoto. No one was, really. "I'm tellin' you, Gokudera, that ain't gonna do you any good here. You shouldn't hang out with failures."

... He isn't sure why he did it, but he _did, _and perhaps that's all that matters.

Yuuto squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and stepped around the corner and walked up to his friends before he quite entirely realized what he was doing in the first place.

_Friends._

(How could he not have seen it before?)

"Keita, Hikaru, Masao." His voice was cold and flat, unlike the usual cheer that he spoke with. "_What_ are you guys doing?"

They didn't seem to notice his tone.

"Oh, hey, Yuuto!" They _grinned. _"We're just lookin' around for some fun right now. Wanna join? We can go out for a bit of baseball after this."

... Yuuto didn't really like getting involved in things that were none of his business. He didn't hold any particular love for Sawada. He didn't want to confront his friends like this –if they even would remain as friends anymore after what he was about to do.

But in hindsight, perhaps all of this was only unavoidable.

**XXIV.**

She didn't actually mean to do it, when it happened.

It's just… Setsu knows that some of the shadier alleyways in Namimori tend to have a problem with thugs that the widely-feared Hibari hasn't gotten around to 'biting to death' yet, but usually there aren't any problems with taking shortcuts. As long as she runs along fast enough and keeps her head down, there shouldn't be any problems. This isn't her first time taking a shortcut through one of the smaller streets to run to her mother's pastry shop; she accidently stayed a little too long in the art room after school today and–

"Oh? What do we have here, boys?"

She didn't _mean _to.

But somehow, it'd ended up happening anyways. It's different though, seeing it in her dreams and seeing it in reality...

_Don't think about it._

Shakily, Setsu bends down and retrieves the school bag she'd dropped. She very deliberately does not allow her eyes to linger on the red liquid soaking through the fabric and inhales slowly, calmly.

… Why isn't she panicking? Why isn't she screaming? Why isn't she crying?

She doesn't know.

Oddly enough, she feels… nothing.

And _that _frightens her, more than anything else, in a distant corner of her mind that's growing quieter and quieter with each passing second as she gazes coldly among the men who tried to kill her mere moments ago.

(_"You damn MONSTER!"_)

…

Does this make her a bad person?

She hopes not. She really, really hopes not. Besides, they were the ones who threatened her in the first place, anyways. If any fault should be laid at hands, shouldn't it be at theirs instead of hers? It wasn't as if she wanted to do this, she wasn't even sure if she could do this, all she'd known in that single moment when that knife inched towards her throat was fear and panic and then she'd just–

No, no.

Don't think about it. Move along, and put it all behind. It's not like anyone else was watching, right? And even if there was, this was… this was self-defense. Yes, self-defense. She was perfectly justified in her actions. There was no need to feel sorry for them. Left alone, they would continue to harm others, wouldn't they?

They weren't worth crying over.

…

Setsu isn't quite sure how she walked the rest of the way to her mother's pastry shop, only that she somehow made the trip there without throwing up or keeling over on the side of the street. Surprisingly. Her entire body felt numb, and yet everything had never been so clear to her at the same time with that foreign-familiar warmth dancing under her skin–

"Ah, Setsu, I was getting worried –_oh my god!"_

She breathed in again, this time inhaling her mother's scent as the woman dropped everything in her hands and immediately rushed to her daughter as soon as she stepped through the doors of the shop.

"Setsu, Setsu, talk to me. Are you hurt anywhere? Did you get into a fight at school? Was someone bullying you?"

She opens her mouth and–

"It's okay, Mama. I just got clumsy and spilled a lot of the red paint at school, so I had to stay behind and clean up. Sorry for worrying you."

That …that hadn't been what she was going to say. But the words rolled smoothly off her tongue as she slipped a guileless smile over her face, and, really –was there anything else she could say to the woman who was her mother? The _truth?_

Hilarious.

"…so don't scare me like that again, Setsu. Papa is home early today; why don't you head on back and clean yourself up?"

Okay.

Go home. She can do that. Clean herself up. She can do that, too.

…

She vaguely remembers feeling disgust, once upon a time. She also remembers feeling satisfaction.

But right now, sitting in the bathtub and watching lazy red ribbons trail away from her body under the lukewarm water, all she feels is nothing.

(What is she supposed to feel, now that her dreams are becoming reality? What is this sudden feeling of disconnection –as if there's something she should know, something she should be aware of, something that's right under her nose and she _doesn't know what it is?_)

**XXV.**

_She blinks, and there it is again._

_There it is._

_A man hanging in the air before her, dangling in chains. Nails are driven into his wrists and ankles in a mockery of crucifixion as he screams and screams and _screams. _She blinks at the writhing man covered in blood, and a single name floats across her mind._

_Bellini._

_A thread of distaste is coiled around the name, a brush of dislike associated with it._

"_You damn MONSTER!"_

_Drool and spittle fly from the madman's mouth as he struggles violently against the chains and nails suspending him in place. Burning iron and frozen steel. He doesn't seem to notice his flesh tearing and shredding under his futile struggles, and she does nothing to disabuse him of the notion to stop moving to lessen his pain._

_A small smile curls across her face. Why is she smiling?_

"_So you've gone insane, too." The man's blood drip-drip-dripped on her face, and she didn't bother brushing it away. Just like –she banishes the thought, but not quickly enough. "Just like my late father. At first I thought this might've been done purely out of revenge on your behalf, but it seems to be a little more than that."_

_Revenge for a golden-eyed woman whose smiles were poison and wanted to kill her. Revenge for a Family slaughtered by one that she had manipulated. Revenge for the rage and grief tearing his heart apart in a world that had nothing left to offer him a reason to live._

"_Shut up shut up SHUT UP! I'LL GUT YOU AND STRING YOU UP BY YOUR ENTRIALS, YOU GODDAMNED MONSTER!"_

_But then her attention shifted away from the rambling man to settle on a scowling young teen standing a little ways behind her._

"_Ah, but where are my manners?" Such a smooth, smooth voice. Had she ever talked this way before? She didn't think so, but it certainly seemed like something she was very familiar and well-practiced with… "We have guests, Carmen."_

_Carmen?_

_Carmen Bellini._

_Yes, she recognized the name. Of course she did; how couldn't she?_

_This was the man who killed her biological father._

"_Xanxus," she dipped her head politely, and the boy with beautiful flames returned the gesture. Then: "I thank Vongola for the aid that they have sent …"_

…

…

…

"-ke up, wake up! Setsu, it's time to go to school!"

"… Setsu?"

"Setsu, did you have another nightmare?"

The gray-eyed girl finally surfaced from her blankets when a note of concern entered her brother's voice.

"I'm fine."

"… Are you sure, Setsu?"

"I… I'm _fine. _Really, I am."

What else could she do? Hug him and cry, like the numerous times she'd done before?

When had crying ever solved anything?

**XXVI.**

Sousei glanced up from his math textbook.

"Something wrong, Yuuto?"

He watched the gray-eyed boy fidget in the doorway for a moment before setting aside his study materials and beckoning his little brother into the room. As Yuuto gently shut the door behind him, Sousei felt his gaze sharpen –this meant that there was something Yuuto didn't want to let their parents or Setsu know.

Yuuto flopped down on his bed, biting his lip.

"… Did you hear about it?"

"You're going to have to be a little more specific than that," he replied dryly.

"Just… _it." _Yuuto struggled with articulating his words, "I mean… even though you go to Yumei Middle, you guys have to have heard about it too, right? Yamamoto… Yamamoto tried to commit suicide today."

"I'm aware of that," Sousei nodded, "Yamamoto… he's on the baseball team with you, right? Are you two close?"

_Yamamoto isn't close with anyone. _Yuuto thought, but bit back the words before they escaped his mouth.

… Or rather, _wasn't _close, if the friendly, open, _honest _way he'd spotted his teammate chatting with Sawada in the aftermath of the incident was any indication of things.

Yuuto cleared his throat as he addressed his brother again. "No, we're not close, but… see, he broke his arm at practice yesterday, and he was going to jump off the roof this morning. We didn't really believe it, a cheerful guy like him doing something like that, but he was really standing on the edge of the roof, and…"

"He didn't jump though, did he?" Sousei pointed out mildly, "From what I heard, someone stopped him."

"Sawada did." Yuuto ran a hand through his hair, "Sawada… Sawada has been doing some pretty insane things lately."

Sousei gave his little brother a shrewd look.

"This conversation isn't actually about Yamamoto, is it?"

"You've got me." The gray-eyed boy shot him a sheepish smile that disappeared just as quickly as it'd appeared in the first place. Fake. "… Y'know, he's… he's a pretty interesting guy. Sawada, I mean. Ever since Mochida challenged him and _lost_, it's almost like–"

"Would this have anything to do with why you aren't hanging out with your usual friends anymore?"

Yuuto _stared._

"… How the hell do you know that?"

"Language," Sousei gave him a sharp look, to which the younger boy rolled his eyes. "And just because I spend most of my time studying nowadays, doesn't mean I don't still keep an eye out for you and Setsu."

…

He laughed.

He _laughed._

Yuuto couldn't help it.

"Hey, hey, are you alright?" His older brother leaned over him, a bewildered look crossing his face along with the small, uncharacteristic flush of embarrassment that made Yuuto laugh even harder.

"Can't hide anything from you can I, onii-san?"

And so he talked and Sousei listened; just like he always did and always would.

**XXVII.**

"_Working on the painting of that lake again now, are we?"_

"_Yes, sensei. I already finished the assignment you gave us today, so…"_

_The young art teacher smiled._

"_I don't mind you working on side projects as long as you finish the actual work for this class… Oh, are you adding something new to it this time?"_

"_Mm-hm."_

_There was a tiny brush in the little girl's hand that traced out tiny pinpricks of light on the dark canvas._

"_Stars, Nakamura?"_

"_Yes, sensei."_

_The teacher continued watching over her shoulder for a few heartbeats before she spoke again._

"_Isn't that the water? Why are you putting the stars in the water with the fog?"_

"_Because that's where they belong, sensei."_

"_Don't stars belong in the sky, though?"_

"_But not all stars shine brightly in the sky. Sometimes only misted waters can reflect the light they hold."_

**XXVIII.**

Reborn stood silently in the mouth of the cluttered alleyway, surveying the scene before him.

Blood. Splattered haphazardly everywhere, limp bodies lying on the ground. Arms and legs twisted at strange angles, as if someone had taken the pains to thoroughly shatter the bone. It was strange that these men were still alive and breathing despite the torture –yes, torture; there was no other way to describe this– that they'd been put through.

Reborn knew these types of men; small-time yakuza and underground scum who pillaged and coerced and raped without a second thought. It wasn't the fact that they were hurt that had his lips twitching into a small frown, but the fact that there was someone in Namimori capable of doing this at all, even if they weren't the best of fighters.

This certainly hadn't been in any of the reports he'd received from the Nono when he'd been given this assignment.

He'd kept an eye on the people who came in and out of Namimori. To his knowledge, there hadn't been any bounty hunters or mercenaries passing this way. That meant that the person who'd done this was a Namimori resident. As for people who were capable of this level of violence –Hibari Kyoya was the first person who came to mind. He was, after all, the protector of Namimori who never hesitated to use violence to keep its local yakuza in line.

However, none of these injuries had been caused by tonfas, if the jagged punctures on their bodies were any indication of things. Claws? Nails?

… His underlings, then, perhaps? If that was the case, then… hm. Perhaps it was time to take a look at the combat level of the Disciplinary Committee members…

It would serve as a good opportunity to test Gokudera and Yamamoto's skills, too. Even if the Disciplinary Committee members under Hibari were the ones who'd done this, there was no way they'd use the same force against registered students of the school. That, and there was also the added benefit of introducing Dame-Tsuna to his prospective Cloud Guardian. In order to engineer that meeting, all he had to do was…

…

Plan decided, Reborn turned and left the alley.

**XXIX.**

Setsu doesn't actually meet the boy called Sawada Tsunayoshi until a certain Monday after school when she's washing dishes at her mother's pastry shop.

"Yuuto! You're finally bringing friends over to the shop again!" Her mother sounds pleased, happy. So Setsu pushes a smile onto her face as well when she steps into the front of the shop, balancing a stack of plates in her hands as she peers over the counter at the new arrivals.

"U-um, Sawada and I have only been assigned to work on a project together." It's been a long time since she heard her brother sound so stilted and awkward, "And he's rather… uh, close with these guys, so we all ended up coming here together…"

"N-Nakamura, you don't have to be so formal with me!" There's a flustered look on the young brunet's face. It takes Setsu approximately three seconds to connect his face with that of the strange boy with a flame on his forehead who nearly knocked her down on the street, but she's tactful enough to remain silent on that matter. "Y-You can just call me Tsuna. All of my friends do that."

The last sentence was added with a shy, almost embarrassed tone, with the implication it carried. Setsu glances at her brother's eyes –he'd noticed it too.

… Was this why was he acting so strangely these days? Not strange, but... different?

"Then you can call me Yuuto," he said firmly, gray eyes glowing with _something. _Setsu couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, but she knew that she once had it, too. But what was it? "C'mon, let's go to one of the tables in the back so we can get started on this. Mama, do you mind if we get something with chocolate today?"

"Of course I don't mind, dear." The woman smiled, a knowing light in her eyes. "Setsu, be a dear and grab the brownies that are cooling in the back, will you?"

"… Okay."

She hears an offhand comment of 'Oh, Setsuko over there is my little sister,' as she disappears into the back rooms. She is pleasantly surprised to hear that Yuuto's tone is still light and relaxed –with none of that _other _tone that he sometimes unconsciously slips into when referring to her.

These new friends seem to be good for him. Better than his old ones, at least.

**XXX.**

Occasionally when she's feeling introspective, Setsu wonders if it's normal that she's so easily growing accustomed to these strange happenings in town. Random explosions going off in the middle of the day, purple food melting entire blocks of cement, Tsuna running down the streets in nothing but his boxers with a flame glowing in the middle of his forehead –and she doesn't even bat an eyelash anymore. Tsuna sometimes looks at her funny for it, as if he can't believe she doesn't _say _anything about all the insanity and general mayhem and destruction being caused, but she's always been good at adapting, and so that's what she does.

Fuuta is strange in his own way, too.

Setsu has always dreamed of flames and fighting and death, but she hadn't dreamed of 'Ranking' before. She doesn't really remember when it was that the boy showed up in Namimori, but she's perfectly content to sit and listen him ramble on about the Ranking Planet and about chocolate and about… well, about almost everything that comes to mind. He's sweet and endearing in a way Setsu imagines a little sibling might be (but not really, because Setsu knows a little brother who isn't exactly 'sweet'… unless the word is used in context of something along the lines of: 'He sweetly sliced a man into a hundred little pieces in the name of defending his sister's honor.').

So on a sunny day when her brother and his friends run off on another of their crazy (because there's no other word that describes what's happening in Namimori) exploits, she was in the middle of laughing with Fuuta when she felt _it._

_It _being a blue-haired boy with dichromatic eyes (weren't they both supposed to be blue?), flanked by two other boys behind him.

"Ranking Fuuta," the familiar blue-haired boy (Mukuro, his name was Mukuro) smiled disarmingly at them, easily dismissing her after a cursory look. "I would like to do business with you."

Setsu glanced sharply at Fuuta, who was biting his lip and rapidly paling.

"Come," the boy beckoned to Fuuta imperiously with a single finger, his smile losing some of its charming edge and slipping into something darker when Fuuta hesitated and refused to obey. "… Come. Or do you want something to happen to your friend over there?"

And suddenly up is down and down is up and left is right and right is left and everything is being torn away from her. No family, no friends, _nothing; _nothing matters anymore but Mukuro-sama because she is only a puppet who lives to serve, a marionette dancing on strings to his tune and she would do anything for him in that drunken indigo haze–

She is _not _a doll.

She is not a plaything to be used and manipulated at will. Never has been and never will.

_Breathe._

She is Setsu, born and bred in Namimori to an ordinary family with a father and a mother and two brothers who all love her and she loves them and this is her reality. She is Setsu, a girl who loves painting and always heads to her mother's pastry shop after school. She is Setsu, who isn't good at math but more than makes up for that deficiency in terms of artistic skill, who dreams of attending Midori Middle one day for their wonderful arts curriculum.

She is Setsuko, a young girl who dreams of blood but continues to smile each day as even as her mind is now crumbling down, down, down under the sudden influx of these foreign flames that don't _belong_ in her world of star-filled waters and midnight skies and it needs to get out, out, out–

She is Nakamura Setsuko.

She is Nakamura Setsuko, once Stella Squalo.

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

_Onwards Till Dawn, _my other KHR fic written with XxZuiyun, has been updated earlier today, for anyone who's interested.

... So, we skipped through a lot of the Daily Life Arc, heading into the Kokuyo Arc. Does it ever mention in the manga how Mukuro acquires Fuuta as a hostage? If it does, then just consider what I wrote AU or something. xD

And speaking of AU, I received a question regarding the relation of _Canopus _to _Polaris. _I will restate my answer here: _Canopus _is NOT an OFFICIAL sequel to _Polaris _precisely because in _Polaris _Stella is DEAD. In _Canopus_, all the events of _Polaris _have occurred EXCEPT for the epilogue. Does that make any sense? Sorry I didn't mention it earlier, I kind of assumed it would be obvious. My bad.

Aaaand lots of responses to the pairing question from the last chapter. A large concern that kept popping up was the matter of Stella's age. She's, what… nine or ten at this point? Yes, way too young for a serious relationship. But she's also the reincarnation of Stella, which is hopefully made more evident in this chapter… although, the struggles of Stella vs. Setsu are far from being over.

... I think I'll stop here before I end up giving any spoilers. xD

So.

Kokuyo! Kokuyo. Anyone excited for the Kokuyo Arc? :3

**QUESTION: **What do you think of Yuuto and Sousei's characters, based on what you've seen so far?

Till next time

-XxZuiliu


	4. XXXI-XL

**XXXI.**

Fuuta sits pensively by Setsu's side.

For all intents and purposes, it looked like the raven-haired girl had merely fallen asleep. Even breaths, calm expression, small fingers delicately folded over each other on top of her stomach.

Sleeping.

…

… If only that was the truth.

He hadn't really understood all of what had happened in the instant that Mukuro's flames swirled around Setsu's body and she suddenly collapsed, but he understood enough to know that _something_ bad had happened to Setsu, and it was his fault because he didn't want to go with Mukuro.

He didn't want to go with Mukuro.

He didn't want to go with Mukuro, so Mukuro had gone and hurt his friend instead. What would Tsuna-nii say? What would Tsuna-nii do?

…

Fuuta knew.

He knew that imposing the Omerta on himself wouldn't be enough to deter Mukuro. _Wasn't _enough. Mukuro had gone and taken the rankings he'd done beforehand instead of pressing him to make new Rankings –which left him with conflicting feelings of relief and guilt. Relief, that Mukuro wouldn't try to intimidate or torture him (and Setsu) for Rankings. And guilt, because he had inadvertently placed Tsuna-nii and his friends in danger, anyways.

The young boy curled into himself miserably.

_I'm scared._

**XXXII.**

A boat.

She's sitting in a boat.

Silver stars glow softly as they drift past her in the fathomless depths of the dark waters. Soft mist curls on the surface of the quietly lapping waves, gently brushing against her skin.

She looks up, and there it is again.

That humanoid shadow. Closer now, more distinct, and it's in the shape of a long-haired girl.

_Silver hair, _she thinks, and distractedly wonders how she knows that. Then she feels like an idiot for thinking so. How could she forget her own hair color?

… Wait, what?

The silver-haired girl silently raises a hand to point behind her, and she turns to look.

Pulsing waves of indigo, pushing insistently at the mist that surrounds her. Foreign. Invasion. Intrusion. And she knows, instinctively:

_It doesn't belong here._

"Interesting mind you have here, Se-tsu-ko."

She doesn't like the way that Mu-ko-ro draws out each syllable of her name, and her agitation makes itself known in the form of an irritated ripple in the water.

"Or should I say… Stella Squalo?"

Two eyes appear above her in the midnight sky; one blue, one red, shining with interest and amusement.

"Do you remember me?"

_Rokudo Mukuro, _she breathes, and the name is echoed in the star-filled water that surrounds her. There are no stars in the sky anymore, if they were ever even truly there in the first place.

"… I've always wondered if you knew, when you taught me that trick with Mist flames that day." The eyes continue staring at her unblinkingly, and his indigo flames never stop battering against her own mist. She refuses to surrender. "You know a lot of things, Stella-san."

_It's Setsuko, _she replies automatically.

_(… Isn't it?)_

Mukuro laughs.

"Of course, Stella-san." A patronizing tone in his voice. She frowns. "How silly of me to think you would respond to that name, when that's who you _are."_

_I am Nakamura Setsuko. Maybe I was Stella Squalo once, but no longer._

This time, there is an odd underscore of pity twisted to his mocking words.

"You never _stop _being someone, Stella-san. It doesn't work that way. You might be Nakamura Setsuko now, but you're also Stella Squalo in every sense of the name and the weight it carries. Denial is unbecoming of you."

And then his flames press down on her and she responds instinctively, throwing up a hand and letting her mist engulf his flames, coiling upwards until it reaches his still-gleaming eyes.

_Go away._

"No," he counters smoothly, and his flames break free from her hold. She frowns. "I won't. This is a great opportunity, you know. I won't 'go away' until you–"

**XXXIII.**

They're staring at him.

Of course. Of course they are. Why wouldn't they? Tsuna's gaze is the most concerned –and the young brunet's lips are moving, saying something, except he can't hear, can't listen, can't process anything, because–

_What?_

…

Yuuto is panicking.

He's panicking, yes, but not for the reason they think he's panicking for.

"_Fuuta has been kidnapped by a group of escapees from Vendicare –the prison maintained by the Vindice in our world. Setsu was with him when this happened, and as a result, was kidnapped as well."_

…

Impossible.

It's _impossible, _except it _is, _and _what in the world can he do if–_

"-to! Yuuto!"

Tsuna. Tsuna. _Tsuna._

Yuuto stumbles –and isn't it strange that it's _Tsuna _who reaches out a hand to steady him, instead of the other way around?

Setsu was kidnapped. _Kidnapped. Setsu._

… Those two words shouldn't even belong together in a sentence together unless 'impossible' is somewhere between them, except- except-

"Calm down, Yuuto." Flickers of flames _burn _in Tsuna's eyes, bringing him back to reality again. Yuuto gratefully latches onto this anchor that Tsuna provides him with. "It's okay. We'll definitely save your sister and Fuuta."

Yuuto very nearly bursts into hysterical laughter at that, barely repressing the urge to seize Tsuna by his shoulders and _shake _the smaller boy for all he's worth. Because he's fully aware that Tsuna has _no idea _what he's getting into with this. _This_ enemy is capable of bringing down some of the strongest fighters in Namimori already –for goodness sake, even _Hibari _disappeared from the radar after leaving on his own to seek out a confrontation with this unknown threat! That alone signified that these criminals were _dangerous, _and now, added onto the fact that they were able to subdue and capture his _little sister_…

_The very same sister who knew how to kill a man before she even learned to speak…_

…

He doesn't want him to go.

He doesn't want any of them to go.

He doesn't want Tsuna and the rest of his friends –his _friends; _goddammit he admits that he's attached to them and grimaces at the thought of seeing them hurt, any of them _– _Yuuto doesn't want them to throw themselves into what would doubtlessly prove to be a futile venture; an exploit that could very well result in their deaths.

Because. Really.

…

… What kind of monster must their enemy be, to be capable of kidnapping _Setsuko?_

**XXXIV.**

_She's lying in a bed, bones aching and limbs heavy and there's something burning in her chest–_

Blink.

_She's lying in a bed, screaming and thrashing from a round of particularly gruesome nightmares–_

Blink.

_She's sitting in a wheelchair, smiling softly at the silver-haired boy walking next to her–_

Blink.

_She's sitting down in front of a table, listening to Sousei explain math problems to her–_

Blink.

…

…

…

The images shift and fall around her like quicksand as the foreign indigo flames batter against her own, pressing down and surrounding her. There's a sort of cruel interest, insidious intent laced behind them –looking through her memories and gleaning what he will from them; sifting through her experiences and trying to alter them to suit his own purposes–

_I helped you once, Mukuro. _She reminds him. He doesn't care.

"So help me again."

… _Why are you doing this? It makes you no different from the rest of the mafia._

A chilling laugh. "Who said I had to be different from the mafia? I will use whatever means necessary to achieve my goals."

_So you would stoop to using the tactics of that which you seek to destroy?_

The invading flames flared up once, twice.

"… You know that I wish to destroy the mafia? That I wish to destroy this flawed, corrupted world and what it stands for?"

She smiled.

_Don't gaze too long into the abyss, Mukuro. _A soft, soft whisper. The smile dropped from her lips. _For the abyss will gaze back into you._

Raising her arms, letting the starlit waters around her surge upwards in a veritable tidal wave-

A simple warning.

_Don't do this. Don't make me your enemy._

A simple response.

"Of course not, Stella-san."

…

Fire clashed against water; and indigo filled the world.

**XXXV.**

"Sousei, do you know where your sister is?"

The young boy looked up at his father standing in the doorway.

"Um… Yuuto said something about going out to… uh, hike, I think."

"Oh, is that so?" The man visibly relaxed, the worried lines in his face easing out into a small smile instead. "Those two. I suppose we should try to be around more often so you children can tell us things like these before they happen… say, why aren't you with them, Sousei?"

He arched an eyebrow and held up his chemistry textbook in response. His father shook his head at him.

"Learn to relax a little, okay? It's good to work hard, but don't overwork yourself."

… _This _is _relaxing. Yuuto barely said anything before he ran out the door again –the only thing I got out of the gibberish he spouted out was to cover for him and Setsu's absence. Everything in Namimori has been so crazy lately, especially around the Sawada kid they hang out with… who knows what they're up to this time? If it has anything to do with explosives and guns again…_

Sousei shuddered, before going back to his admittedly unsuccessful attempts with distracting himself via schoolwork.

_We need to sit down and have a serious conversation about what they've been doing lately when they come back this time._

**XXXVI.**

She wakes up.

She wakes up clear-headed and in control of herself; a certain clarity in her mind that she hasn't felt for a long, long time. It's… jarring, almost. An ice-cold clarity that is-but-isn't _her, _and…

…

"_This is a great opportunity, you know."_

…

…

…

She stands up and begins walking.

**XXXVII.**

Tsuna isn't really sure how things got so bad so quickly.

After learning that they only defeated a fake Mukuro after finally fighting and defeating all those assassins lurking outside –that was when he'd felt the first inklings of something-gone-wrong-going-worse. Everyone was already injured from their battles; Yamamoto was down and Gokudera stubbornly limping along, Bianchi trying to hide that quiver in her legs and Yuuto looking like he could sleep for a week-

But still, they pressed on. Tsuna didn't really care about Reborn citing the Vongola Nono's orders for them to apprehend the criminals; the only reason he why was here at all was for Setsu and Fuuta. Reborn might insist that it was also a Boss' duty to protect his famiglia members, but all Tsuna knew was that he didn't want his _family _in danger and at the mercy of criminals.

…

They found Mukuro.

Setsu had been nowhere in sight, but Fuuta _was _–and somehow Mukuro had possessed the young child, forcing him to try and stab Tsuna with a trident as soon as he stepped into the room. Yuuto had shouted something before he was knocked back; everything being somewhat of a blur at that point as Bianchi went down and Yuuto collapsed and _ohmygodwe'reallgonnadie–_

And then Hibari had shown up with Gokudera in tow, and proceeded to 'bite Mukuro to death.'

… It should've been over by that point; everything should've been fine–

Except.

Except Hibari passed out and Mukuro shot himself and right now _everyone_ was being possessed and _he didn't want to hurt his friends but he also couldn't let Mukuro win._

Pillars of fire burst from the ground, and he let out a small, instinctive shriek–

The flames disappeared.

… Huh?

"Oh?" Mukuro arched an eyebrow using Bianchi's body, turning towards the empty doorway. Tsuna blinked in surprise. "Seems like you're much more resilient than I anticipated… but I suppose I should've expected something like this out of you, shouldn't I? _Stella-san_."

No. Not empty. The doorway wasn't empty.

Because Setsu was standing there, clutching at the rotting doorframe in a valiant attempt to keep herself upright as she _glared._

"You," she snaps, and Tsuna watches in borderline horror-awe as she steps inside and points directly at Mukuro with a slightly trembling hand_. _"You have _no right _to try and mess with my mind."

**XXXVIII.**

Mukuro vaguely remembers a silver-haired girl sitting on a wheelchair.

"_Miss, u-um… are you sick?"_

A child's hesitance. A child's curiosity. He'd only been a child at the time.

"_What makes you think that?"_

"_Well, you're sitting in one of the big wheelchairs, and daddy said they're for sick people. Does it hurt?"_

He remembers the considering look that flitted across her face at that query. Briefly.

"_Yes, I'm sick. But it doesn't hurt anymore."_

"_Really?"_

And then Stella Squalo had proceeded to show him how to 'make the pain go away.' He'd practiced it, on his own –_a Mist technique learned from a real illusionist!– _and during those hellish days under his former famiglia's _tender _care, he'd mastered it. Thoroughly.

Sometimes, Mukuro wondered if he would've lost his sanity like the others had he not known how to 'make the pain go away.'

(… He still wasn't quite sane like normal people were, but at least he wasn't _insane. _Not like the rest of the children subjected to the same experiment as him, whom he'd put out of their misery the day he killed the last of the Estraneo scientists.)

Mukuro knew of the girl called Stella Squalo.

Rumors and hearsay that contradicted each other with various depictions of strength and weakness_. Deception_. It was hard to form an idea of what the late Lady Squalo had truly been like –had she been a helpless, sick invalid? Or had she simply been hiding her strength and biding her time, working behind the scenes?

Faust had occasionally spoken of her to Mukuro whenever he came to visit Lancia, and later for the sole purpose of tutoring Mukuro (no matter how the man himself denied it). It was through Faust that Mukuro had learned to develop and enhance the abilities he now had, and it was also through Faust that he finally caught a glimpse of what the silver-haired girl had actually been like; a glimpse of the sick girl confined to a wheelchair called Stella Squalo.

_Diamond steel, unbending will._

He hadn't expected it, when taking control of the gray-eyed girl's mind –how could he? _Who _would've expected that there was someone else out there who had also retained their memories of a previous lifetime? Granted, those memories were scattered and she didn't seem to be quite aware of what they _were_, but they were still nonetheless _there._

And this girl, this Nakamura Setsuko –_she was Stella Squalo._

Stella Squalo. An illusionist who'd tethered herself to life for god-knows-how-long through sheer strength of will.

… He could use that tenacity.

And so he'd expended more flames than he would usually bother with into taking her mind, before focusing on other matters in front of him –it was always harder to tear down the natural defenses of another illusionist than a random passerby on the streets, and this was _Stella Squalo_. Setsuko was young, and hadn't quite grasped the abilities of who she once was, had been, would be.

Her potential. Or even her own identity.

It might've proved a small challenge, but it should've been _easy_ for an illusionist of his caliber to catch her under his thrall and manipulate her for his own uses.

Just like it should've been easy to take over the mind of the Vongola Decimo.

…

"Tsuna, he's trying to trick you again! Those copies are fake! He's to your right!"

He looked at the boy. With flames burning on his hands and Stella's advice ringing in his ears, Mukuro honestly couldn't find it in himself to be surprised anymore when the strength finally fled his limbs and his body refused to move.

_Defeat. _

And as he lay on the ground, beaten and battered and asking for death–

"I'm not going to kill you," the hopelessly naïve, idealisticVongola Decimo shook his head innocently, but no less resolutely. "Don't ask me to do something like that."

"Oya?" Mukuro grinned, painful as the movement was. "You're an idiot, then, Sawada Tsunayoshi. I've already stated that I will possess you and use you to destroy the world –if you don't kill me now, you will never get another chance again. I'm a criminal, don't you know?"

And the foolish kid looked directly into his eyes, orange-gold flames burning deep in amber depths.

"You might be a criminal who did horrible things before, but… you're not a bad person, Mukuro."

…

And he laughed.

He _laughed._

… Mukuro was still laughing when the Vindice came and took him away in chains.

**XXXIX.**

"_Hello! You have reached No. 61, Alviss... ah. What can I do for you today, Reborn?"_

"What can you tell me about Lady Stella Squalo?"

**XL.**

Nakamura Setsuko is a quiet girl, the youngest of three children. Setsu likes drawing and painting and tagging along with her brother to Tsuna's house. Setsu is born to ordinary parents in the small town of Namimori; her father an accountant and her mother the owner of a small pastry shop.

Setsuko is also the reincarnation of Stella Squalo.

… Does that mean that Setsu is Stella? Or does that mean that Stella is Setsu? What does all of this mean, really? Does it even matter?

_Yes._

_No._

… Who is she?

She's Setsu, but Setsu is Stella.

She's Stella, but Stella is Setsu.

… Is she Stella or is she Setsu? There's a difference between the two, she knows that well enough. And… sometimes it's easier to slip into the patterns that Setsu left in this body over the years, and sometimes it's easier to slide on the behaviors that Stella formed over a lifetime.

Is she both? Neither?

_What is she?_

No, not quite right.

_Who is she?_

…

…

…

"–tsu! Setsu!"

She looks up and glances out the window of her mother's pastry shop. A small smile flits across her face at what she sees. Tsuna is standing there, waving, and so are the rest of his friends.

… Well, Gokudera is scowling at an oblivious Yamamoto again, and Lambo is dragging I-pin off somewhere. Bianchi is staring at some snakes in the window of the pet shop, while her brother gives her a little wave as well.

Yuuto. She knows that _something _happened to him during the Mukuro Incident –he'd been acting a little odd lately, a little jumpy like the servants she had once known, almost as if he was seeing things that-

She blinked.

… _Huh?_

Tsuna disappeared.

Or rather, Tsuna went down in a tangle of flying limbs and startled shouts as another boy bowled into him out of nowhere, as if he'd dropped out of the sky or something –Rain flames were flaring brightly on top of the strange boy's forehead, and-

"VOI!"

Her world froze.

Silver… silver hair? Silver hair, gold eyes-

"GIVE UP, BRAT! YOU HAVE NOWHERE TO RUN ANYMORE!"

The swordsman bared an arrogant, bloodthirsty grin as he leaped down in front of them, and her heart stuttered to a stop.

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Aaaaand we're done with the Kokuyo arc. Whew. xD Anyone looking forward to what happens next in Namimori?

**IMPORTANT: **A poll is up on my profile for possible pairings for Stella/Setsu. :3 Please head over and vote! The characters up there are the ones I have possible ideas about incorporating into the story, so please no nominating new characters to vote for. Sorry if you're disappointed with the choices. You may vote for TWO characters max. Yes, two. ;3 I promise it will make sense later.

The poll will be open for… well, I'm not sure how long, but I'll close it when we reach the Future arc. I'm guessing that'll take two chapters, maybe? No promises. xD

Also, there are a few possible story summaries posted on my profile, so feel free to review/PM me about those, too.

… _Onwards Till Dawn _has been updated since the last _Canopus _update, so check that out if you're interested. :D

I've gotten reviews before telling me that I've messed up the names; that Squalo is a first name and Superbi is the last name. When I started writing _Polaris, _I used the KHR wiki as a reference –since names were listed as 'Tsunayoshi Sawada' and 'Takeshi Yamamoto' and such, I thought 'Superbi Squalo' meant that the last name was Squalo. Didn't really notice before, but here on the fanfiction site, we have names listed as 'Tsunayoshi S.' and 'T. Yamamoto,' and 'Squalo S.'

?!

… For the sake of the story, let's just pretend that Squalo is the last name. xD I don't even know anymore, really…

**QUESTION: **Any predictions for how Squalo might react to Stella/Setsu? :3

Till next time, everyone. Don't forget to vote!

-XxZuiliu


	5. XLI-L

**XLI.**

_There is a thunderstorm._

_(Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.)_

_The skies are dark and ominous; overwhelmed by the endless expanse of heavy clouds gathering under the cover of the night. Lightning flashes across the sky, a blinding streak momentarily tracing out a jagged line against the heavens. Raindrops pitter-patter-pitter-patter –millions of icy droplets throwing themselves against the fragile windowsill, as if they wish to knock down the glass and sweep into the room to wreak havoc and destruction to their heart's content._

_There is a thunderstorm._

_(Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.)_

_Thunder roars, and the growing crescendo of the invisible monster sends vibrations reverberating deep, deep into the ground. As if the storm itself was a force of violence perfectly capable of tearing up anything unlucky enough to be in its way, anything unlucky enough to be caught in its warpath of destruction. None will be spared from its sightless fury, its unrestricted rage._

…

_(Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.)_

…

_There is a thunderstorm._

_And there is a silver-haired girl holding a silver-haired boy in her arms as they quietly sleep together, while the violent tempest tears down the world around them in their slumber._

_(Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.)_

**XLII.**

She can't move.

Because.

Because.

_Because._

It's Superbi. _Superbi. _Silver hair, gold eyes –since when had he decided to grow out his hair?– complete with a sword at his side. He had always, always kept a sword on him no matter the –wait. A sword. A _sword. _A sword… attached to his wrist?

Varia. Varia uniform.

…

She can't move.

Except.

Except she's running, running, _running; _toes barely skimming the ground as she easily ignores her blood-mother's startled shouts behind her and races out the door, tearing through the streets, flying–

It's like tunnel vision, almost.

She barely notices his sword flashing, downing Gokudera and Yamamoto in one fell swoop and knocking Yuuto to the ground. She barely notices the other people running around on the streets, running _away, _screaming in fear. She barely notices the Rain-user-with-flames-burning-on-his-forehead shakily standing to his feet again and setting himself into a protective stance in front of Tsuna.

However, she _does _notice when her brother steps forward and his lips move, and then the heavily injured Rain-user says something, and then the blade is flashing down again, too quick for any of them to react to–

And.

And she's standing there.

Somehow.

Indigo spots of light dance at the corner of her eyes, but she barely notices her flickering flames because she's looking upwards into that familiar familiar _familiar _face –it's different from the face she remembers in her memories, but there's no doubt about it that it's the _same–_

His face twists into a scowl, and her heart sinks.

"Oi, get out of the way."

She shakes her head, not trusting her voice to speak anymore as her throat tightens. Not sure if she even _can _speak at the moment.

"S-Setsu! _Run!" _Tsuna's voice is filled with fear –not so much fear for the dangerous man in front of them, though that certainly _was _a large factor contributing to the fear he felt, but _this_ fear was more the fear of seeing another of his beloved friends hurt. At seeing young little Setsu hurt.

… But she is not Setsu, not entirely.

Irritation and impatience prickles at the edges of the man in front of her, and he raises his sword threateningly–

And her voice comes through, steadier than it had ever sounded before.

"Stop this, Superbi."

**XLIII.**

"_Stop this, Superbi."_

Strangely enough, the first thing that registered in his mind during that moment wasn't the fact that this strange little girl called him by his given name (a name which only one person had ever done on a regular basis). It wasn't the Mist flames dancing chaotically around her body that had caught his attention, or even the way that she'd cut in and stopped him from killing down the CEDEF brat.

The first thing Superbi Squalo noticed about her was her eyes.

Hazel.

Hazel eyes.

Hazel eyes the exact same shade as his sister's… _his sister who died _years_ ago._

"_I love you, Superbi."_

And then he snapped out of it.

"Voi, what the hell are you doing?!" He growled –Mist flames; _illusionist. _His sister had taught him how to deal with illusionists, how to guard against the weaknesses they plucked out of your mind, how to see through the tricks they tried to make you believe in.

_("I don't want to see you hurt, Superbi.)_

He knew how to deal with illusionists. This one was young –but his sister had been equally young, if not younger, when she came into her own power. Age had never proven to be an accurate indication of danger.

The CEDEF brat barely pulled the little kid back in time as he swiped his sword at them again. Pity; would've made a painless beheading–

_Hazel eyes. Soft smile._

"_I love you, Superbi."_

… Fuck.

_Fuck._

Was this another trick of the kid's Mist flames?! Dredging up memories and trying to mess with him–

_This wasn't fucking funny._

"Setsu, what in the world are you doing?!" The fluffy-headed brunet shrieked –yes, _shrieked_– and pulled the girl back, hastily pushing her along in the opposite direction. "Hurry, go!"

It was at this point that the Prancing Horse arrived –Dino Cavallone, the spineless, useless brat who'd gotten both a spine and some skills beaten into him by Reborn, before finally taking his rightful place as the Boss of the Cavallone Famiglia.

_Remember what you're here for. Not to kill some shitty brats, but to retrieve the half-rings for your Boss._

And as he leapt onto the edge of a building before the smoke from the rubble and debris cleared, Vongola half-rings clutched in his hand and victory in his mouth; turning around with a smirk on his face–

There it was.

The diminutive form of the little gray-eyed girl that he'd almost killed just now, watching him with a small, soft smile.

**XLIV.**

_He's my brother._

_No he's not._

_He's my _brother.

_No he's _not.

_Yes he is!_

_If he's your brother, then who are Yuuto and Sousei?_

… _My brothers._

_Exactly._

… _But he's my brother. My _brother. _He's Superbi!_

_Superbi is Stella's little brother._

_I'm Stella._

_No, you're Setsu._

_I'm Stella, but I'm also Setsu. I'm Setsu, but also Stella._

_Is it even possible to be two people at once?_

_I don't know._

_So who are you, really?_

…

…

… _I don't know._

**XLV.**

"Ciaossu."

She blinks for a moment at the baby hitman's sudden appearance in the backyard, surprised. Usually, it had always been her tagging along with Yuuto to the Sawada household –she couldn't recall a time when the hitman came to seek them out in the comfort of their own home, when they were still in the Nakamura residence.

"Hello, Reborn," she greeted softly, gently setting down the paintbrush in her hands. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"No, but there's something you can help Tsuna with, Setsu." The hitman tilted his fedora, cocking his head at her, "… Or should I say, Lady Stella?"

She froze.

Only for a moment.

(But a moment was all the hitman needed to confirm his suspicions, ridiculous as it sounded –even to _him_, someone who had fallen under the Rainbow Curse…)

"… I hardly even know myself anymore," she eventually sighed, finally moving to put away her paints. It wasn't likely that she'd get anything else done at this point. "What does Tsuna need my help for? There's not much I can do right now."

She was careful to keep the bitter twist out of those last few words.

"On the contrary, there's a lot you can do." Reborn easily countered, not skipping a beat with his next sentence: "Become his Mist Guardian, Stella."

Paint splattered on the ground.

**XLVI.**

_**Control: **__This is Control.__Requesting report.__Establishing connection…_

…

_**061: **__Connection established. This is 061._

_**Control: **__Status check._

_**061: **__All transactions this month have been conducted successfully. Copies of the intel exchanged during this period have already been submitted. Unusual requests have also been marked and highlighted in the report._

_**Control: **__Proceed with the assignment as planned._

_**061: **__Affirmed._

_**Control: File 061 has been updated. **__Terminating connection…_

…

…

…

"_Something wrong, Faust?"_

_The illusionist slowly looked up from the papers clutched in his hands at the sound of an old butler's voice. There were hundreds of other reports still awaiting his perusal –but it was the one in his hands, carefully marked and flagged down, that were sending alarm bells ringing in his mind._

"_Someone has been asking after…" A small pause in his words. He continued on, "After Stella. The request was made by the Arcobaleno Reborn."_

_The majordomo stiffened at this tidbit of news._

"_Why?" Alfredo's voice was sharp, much sharper than it usually was. _

_Faust felt a small frown surface over his lips as he glanced over the report again._

"_I don't know, but I certainly intend to find out."_

**XLVII.**

"Yuuto, Setsu? We need to talk."

Sousei crossed his arms and attempted to look stern in front of his younger siblings –of course, the key word here being 'attempted.' Neither of them looked contrite at the moment; Setsu was curled around a pillow on his bed, and Yuuto was leaning back on the chair to admire the diagrams plastered to the ceiling.

Honestly, these two…

"What is there to talk about?" Yuuto finally sat upright again when the silence stretched on between them, though his gaze was fixed elsewhere. And if _that _wasn't an indication that something was wrong, well, he'd eat the computer programming books that Shouichi had lent him last week.

Sousei sighed.

"Look, I'm not oblivious to everything happening in town. And when explosions and other equally crazy things happen on an increasingly daily basis, I'd have to be an absolute _idiot_ not to know that there's _something _going on with that Sawada you hang out with."

"… Tsuna isn't a bad person, onii-chan."

"I'm not saying he is, Setsu." Sousei ran a hand through his hair, carefully picking his next words. "I'm just saying that it seems like a lot of dangerous things happen around him. Am I wrong?"

The silence that followed his question was more than enough of a telling answer.

"… Can't you at least tell me what's going on? This is getting ridiculous."

Sousei wasn't against his siblings making friends. He could tell that they genuinely _liked _hanging out with Sawada and his group, and he was fine with that. But he _wasn't _fine with the young duo coming home covered in soot and ashes and minor injuries –and there was that time when Yuuto had gone to the hospital after they had their 'hiking trip' to the abandoned Kokuyo Land–

Yuuto let out a low exhale, finally stopping himself from fiddling around with that… whatever-it-was, that he was rolling between his fingers. An ornament of some sort?

"What do you think about when I say 'mafia,' onii-san?"

…

…

…

"… No. Oh _hell _no."

"Hell _yes_, onii-chan… onii-chan? Um, I think we'd better tell Mama and Papa that we're going to be short one person at the dinner table tonight."

"I guess so, Setsu. We'll save something for him to eat when he wakes up again."

**XLVIII.**

Yuuto wasn't really sure what had been going on in his mind when he'd accepted.

It just… hadn't occurred to him to refuse, kind of? Sort of. He wondered if it made him a bad friend now, now that the entire situation was finally sinking in on him and the thought that he could've refused had finally come to mind, and he was wondering if…

…

Nah. He probably would've accepted anyways. For Tsuna, right?

Yuuto held up the strangely-shaped half ring to the light, watching as the small piece of jewelry glinted brightly under the sun.

What had they said again?

"_The Mist, hiding behind illusions and protecting the family through deception of the enemies, seemingly intangible but nonetheless present under the Sky… you have the potential to become an excellent illusionist, Nakamura Yuuto."_

… He'd been scared, when it first started happening. Borderline panic/hysteria, until Reborn had sat down and talked to him; if only because no one else had known what the _hell _was going on with him at the time.

It had been shortly after the Kokuyo Incident that he found there to be strange things that had started occurring around him –an extra pencil on the desk when he was sure he'd put away his supplies last night, a missing book that he _knew _had been placed there just this morning… he'd almost thought he was going _crazy _when he saw that stray dog bark once, twice, before _disappearing entirely._

At least he had an explanation for it now.

Mist.

Mist flames.

_Illusions._

… Who knew?

"_It seems that the possession by Rokudo Mukuro has kick-started your ability to use illusions. That might explain why you took the longest to recover from that ordeal."_

Well, at any rate… it was a good thing that Yuuto had been steadily growing accustomed to the insanity that followed Tsuna wherever he went; otherwise, he had no doubt that he'd be getting himself checked in the mental ward for seeing hallucinations every day instead of seeing a baby-hitman-tutor for help.

Mist flames.

… If they were hereditary… that meant that _Setsu _was also… a Mist-user?

It…

…

Strangely (or rather, not-so-strangely), it made a lot of sense.

If it really _was_, then… then it explained a lot of things about his little sister, including _that incident. _But it also raised just as many questions, if not more. How in the world had she even _known _how to create illusions by herself? He could hardly control these things from appearing and disappearing around him all the time, heck; even _Lambo _had noticed something wrong around him! And another thing –if Setsu could control it, somehow, then why wasn't _she _the 'Mist Guardian?' It wasn't like she would ignore Tsuna's plight (would she?). If even Lambo, a five year old, could be considered as a candidate, then what was there exempting her from fighting?

(Because, well. Really. _She _could fight; _he _couldn't.)

Yuuto gave himself a rough mental shake to focus on his surroundings again as the blonde man standing next to him spoke.

"Here's your tutor, Yuuto. Work hard during these ten days we have before challenging the Varia, yeah?"

His tutor was… a girl. A blue-haired girl with an eyepatch covering one of her eyes, and… holding a suspiciously familiar trident in her hands…?

"Her name is Chrome," Dino continued on with the introductions, seeing as neither of them was actually making any effort to extend the first overtures to each other. Yuuto didn't have a good feeling about the quiet girl. "Chrome Dokuro… or Dokuro Chrome, as you would say here . She… well. Um. She shares a rather _unique_ connection with Rokudo Mukuro, which may be of great benefit to your training. Or, well, at least Reborn says so. Good luck, Yuuto."

… Something in his mind broke when Dino left and the girl's eyepatch fell from her eye and a slow smile curved over her lips.

No.

No.

_No._

This… this _couldn't _be happening. There was no way, it couldn't... be...!

"_Kufufu."_

And as she _smiled _and _spoke _in the way only _Rokudo Mukuro _did, and the sidewalk disappeared and became a magma river…

…

Granted, there were probably worse things that could happen in this world.

(Though, as far as he was concerned, this was pretty much the lowest point things could ever get. _Rokudo Mukuro?! _How was this _remotely _good in any way, shape, or form?

… He was _so _dead. Oh, the things he did for the sake of his friends…)

**XLIX.**

"_How is that painting coming along, Setsu?"_

"… _It's fine, sensei."_

"_Really? That's good to hear." The young teacher smiled cheerily, "I thought you might've hit a snag in it, seeing as you haven't been touching it lately. I'm glad you've brought it out to work on again –it's shaping up to be a lovely work of art."_

"_Thank you, sensei."_

"_You're welcome." A splatter of paint fell on the table, and the little girl quickly wiped it up with a rag. The teacher watched her fondly. "Are you ever going to paint that person standing in the middle there?"_

"… _I don't know."_

"_Again with the 'I don't know?'" A soft, exasperated sigh. "Sometimes, Setsu, art is all about ambiguity. Nothing has to be perfectly clear-cut and defined all the time. Sometimes, the beauty is in the interpretation of a subject, and not the subject itself."_

_The startled look on the little girl's face from that tidbit of advice was enough to draw a laugh to her teacher's lips. _

**L.**

Ten days.

Ten days passed, and the Varia came.

"_Let the first match of the battle for the Vongola Rings begin."_

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

**EDIT 8/26: **_Hey, you crazy author. Why the hell did you replace Mukuro with Yuuto as the Mist Guardian?_

Well, look at it this way. On one hand, you have an illusionist who's really strong, but who also happens to be a _criminal _who _tried to kill/possess Tsuna. _Does that really inspire any confidence in you?

On the other hand, you have a budding illusionist who might not be as strong, but has the potential. You know that he will definitely do his best to protect Tsuna.

Setsu might've refused the offer, but Yuuto has the capacity to become a good illusionist after the entire ordeal with Mukuro 'awakened' his abilities.

Even in canon KHR, I was surprised by Mukuro becoming the Mist Guardian. Since Mukuro was the only Mist-user Tsuna knew at the time and he is really, _really_ strong, I guess Iemitsu and the others just decided to take a gamble on him at making him into Tsuna's Mist Guardian. Honestly; he even _says _that the only reason he accepted the position in the first place was so he'd have better opportunities to take over Tsuna's body. And while that might've changed somewhere down the road, it most certainly was true in the beginning.

So you have Mukuro, who's strong and can't really be trusted. Setsu, who's strong but already refused. And Yuuto, who's not as strong as them, but has the potential to become a strong illusionist someday, and who's also someone who definitely _can _be trusted.

... Well, does it make sense that Yuuto replaced Mukuro as the Mist Guardian _now?_

* * *

Author's Notes:

A little short this time, so sorry for that. But! But at least we're approaching the Ring battles now. :D Anyone excited for that? Next chapter should detail the actual Ring battles taking place in Namimori. The Varia will be fun to write. xD

… Also, anyone see the Mist Guardian twist with Yuuto coming? :3 I actually kinda planned this from the beginning. Chrome and Mukuro will still play a role in this story, just not as Tsuna's Mist Guardians... the Future arc is going to be interesting, to say the least.

**Reminder: Please vote! **The pairing poll is still up on my profile, so please head over and vote if you haven't done so yet. I'll probably take it down sometime after the next update, so remember to vote while you still can. xD I'm guessing it's kind of obvious who's in first place from the polls right now, but second place was actually kind of a surprise for me. Well. You'll find out in the Future arc once we hit that stride. :)

**QUESTION: **Any predictions for what Faust and Alfredo might be up to now?

Please leave a note on what you think of the chapter. :3 And feel free to point out any errors in the text you find. Till next time, everyone!

-XxZuiliu


	6. LI-LX

**LI.**

_This is insane._

That's the only thought running through Yuuto's mind when he watches Lussuria fall, struck from behind by a blow none of them saw coming. That none of them could even _imagine _coming (Although, a detached corner of his mind noticed –Setsu didn't seem too surprised. But her face had been blank and closed off ever since the match started, so it was hard to tell what she was thinking behind that expressionless mask of hers.).

A sudden blow dealt by the man's own comrades from behind his back, when he was on the verge of losing. By the merciless Varia, that he was a member of. By a monster who looked more machine than man –and all of those cold-blooded killers standing in line with him watched on with cruel, pitiless eyes as their Sun Guardian crumpled to the ground.

And there was so. Much. Blood.

_Blood._

(Yuuto still remembered the image of a man looking down the barrel of his gun in confusion, before tightening his finger on the trigger and–)

Blood pooled under the man's body in copious amounts that _couldn't _be safe by any stretch –all he could see was more more _more _and red red _red–_ and with all those bruises marring his skin and sluggishly bleeding wounds littered everywhere, Yuuto didn't know if he'd even be able to survive aft–

…

When Reborn had offered him the ring… he'd known. Maybe not _directly, _but he'd known. He'd _known. _

He'd known that by taking this ring, by accepting this responsibility, he would be expected to fight. That he'd be expected to fight against people just as strong as, if not stronger, than the long-haired Italian who'd effortlessly knocked down Yamamoto and Gokudera without so much as batting an eye, before turning putting him down almost as an afterthought.

He'd known that, expected that. Knew that he'd have to become much, much stronger if he even wanted a _chance _at winning. Because he'd even known that the long-haired man hadn't even been fighting seriously that time –hadn't been aiming to _kill, _only to intimidate when he'd struck out and–

And now the game was changed.

Now, it was one-on-one matches, where death was a perfectly acceptable outcome. Where Ryohei had just_ almost died, _and the Varia Sun Guardian looked to be in the _process of dying, his blood spilling everywhere–_

Yuuto sucked in a shaky breath, trying to calm himself. It worked, somewhat.

He knew.

He knew he had the resolve to fight.

Yuuto had the resolve to fight, in order to protect his friends.

But _this… _

… Did he have the resolve for_ this?_ He had to resolve to fight, yes, but did he have the resolve to _die?_

…

Yuuto watched silently as Tsuna darted forward, anxiously hovering by Ryohei's side as the older boy finally lost consciousness, holding up the completed Sun Ring in victory. The young brunet's movement was quickly followed by Yamamoto and Gokudera, who flanked him on his left and right, as if it was completely natural for them to do so. He saw how the medics came and yet the trio still refused to leave the boxing captain –Gokudera was hiding it under a thin veneer of scorn as always, but Yuuto would have to be blind to not see the light of concern in his eyes.

And upon observing this, he couldn't help but wonder if Ryohei had known –and if he'd known; maybe, just maybe…

Maybe _this _was the reason why he'd stepped into that ring, fire burning in his eyes and shining with the brilliance of a thousand suns, fists raised and ready to die.

…

(… Or it could just be that the boxer hadn't given it any thought at all. He certainly wouldn't put it past his thick-headed senior to think like that –namely, to just _do _and not think about anything overly complicated while he was at it.)

(Yuuto sort of wished he could be like that, too.)

**LII.**

_If wishes were horses, beggars would ride._

**LIII.**

She breathed lightly, watching the thin puffs of air from her breath twist into the chilly air, lingering briefly as a small white cloud before dissipating into nothingness.

The woolen scarf softly nestled around her neck felt like it was choking her.

… Of course, that was nothing compared to the piercing golden gaze of the silver-haired man standing in front of her right now –and whether it was by fate or coincidence that they'd met on the early morning streets when there was hardly anyone else around, she'd never know.

Well.

"Walk with me?" A small smile surfaced on her lips, her head still tilted upward towards him. _Superbi. _"I'm heading to school now."

It was a monumental task for her to force herself to casually turn away and continue down the sidewalk as if there was nothing wrong, but the smile stayed on her lips when she felt more than saw him turn on his heel and follow, grumbling under his breath –yet catching up in a few quick strides as he slanted another sharp look at her.

"Tch, you're lucky that this farce of a battle is going on right now and we aren't allowed to attack outside of regulated battles."

She hummed lightly, agreeably.

"Ah, about that…" Voice trailing off, craning her head up towards him again –Superbi, Superbi, _Superbi_– and this time, there was a cracked edge to her smile. "I'm afraid I'm not Tsuna's Mist Guardian."

To his credit, there was no falter in his stride even as the scowl on his face deepened, gaining a darker edge as–

"Yes, Reborn asked me." She nimbly hopped over a small puddle, droplets of last night's rainwater flying up and splattering along the bottom edge of her jacket as her heels caught on the edge of the not-quite-frozen liquid. "I refused."

–his sword-hand fell limp and a light of incredulity crept into his eyes.

"… What the _hell _do you think you're playing at with this?" He abruptly reached out with his other hand, grabbing her shoulder and easily spinning her around to fully face him. "_Voi, _don't think you can trick me by–"

"I wouldn't trick you." The earnest words all but leapt out of her throat, at the accusation. True, it was an entirely reasonable accusation from his standpoint, but… "Not you, Superbi."

His grip on her shoulder tightened almost painfully.

"_Stop that."_

A low growl, forceful and menacing.

She brushed aside the dull ache in her heart and smiled at him.

"Stop what?"

He made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat, opening his mouth and–

**LIV.**

-and he watched, inwardly seething in rage, as Levi went and _lost against a five year old baby._

… Granted, against a twenty years older version of the damn snotty brat, but the point still stands.

_Levi lost against a fucking five year old._

(Varia quality, indeed.)

Squalo watched with sharp eyes as the twenty-five year old crouched down in front of the little gray-eyed girl –the one he ran into this morning. The Mist-user who… apparently wasn't the ridiculously harmless-looking runt's Mist Guardian.

His lips curved into a scowl. Because.

There was something… _wrong _about the girl, that much he knew for sure, even if he couldn't quite put a name to it. Intuition and instinct alone were tools he'd relied on many times before. But… no matter what she did next time, if she dared to call him by his given name again and smiled that soft little smile that was just like _hers _ –then, this time,_ he definitely wouldn't hesitate to pull out his sword and just–_

"It feels rather strange, seeing all of you so young again." The man murmured quietly, sparks of electricity still flickering over his horns. _Horns. _What kind of person attached _horns _to their head to use as a weapon? "How are you feeling, Setsu-nee? Or… have you already come to terms with everything now? Am I addressing St–"

A puff of garish pink smoke, and the afro-headed cow baby was back again, clinging tightly onto a bowl of cold dumplings made ten years in the future.

**LV.**

It's a little strange.

He arrived like a storm, like a tempest, like a veritable maelstrom of rage and resentment; an amalgamation of absolute ruthlessness and righteous _fury _–and for her, it was jarring. _Jarring. _Because she'd recognize those beautiful, beautiful flames anywhere, except they now burned not from confidence and self-assuredness, but from… from something strangely akin to… bitterness.

… Yes, bitterness. Bitterness, tinged with a hint of betrayal.

And wasn't it strange?

It had taken her several heartbeats to recognize him on sight, what with his face marred by an ugly scowl and jagged scars stretching everywhere over his skin –and yet, somehow, she'd instantly recognized those flames, long before she recognized his person.

Those beautiful, beautiful flames.

**LVI.**

"_Please take care of my brother, Xanxus."_

She bolts up in bed in the middle of the night, biting back a scream on the tip of her tongue, barely swallowing it back in time –hard enough to draw blood, though she hardly notices the pain– and she _remembers; _memories of holding a silver-haired teen in her arms for one last time, of visiting the Vongola External Advisor and passing on those documents, of encountering the Nono's youngest son as she left and–

She remembers those words exchanged with each of them.

She remembers disappointment and betrayal and the taste of ashes in her mouth.

She remembers twisting and bending and _shattering _reality.

She remembers a white-haired man with a cruel, cruel smile–

And.

She remembers dying.

Losing consciousness.

Losing her grasp on this world.

Losing hold of the Mist that anchored her to reality, to a façade called life.

…

_And she remembers waking up again._

**LVII.**

Setsu had always dreamed of blood, of horror, of unspeakable acts that _any_ normal person would learn to fear and cower away from. And for a long, long time; no matter how realistic or vivid those dreams of hers became, they remained just that –dreams. _Dreams. _Nothing but simple dreams; reality by night and nothingness by day. Nightmares, yes, but they remained only dreams.

An illusion, a fantasy; something that didn't truly _exist_ in this world Setsu knows.

But _she _knows better.

Nightmares they may be, but she isn't as naïve as to think that they're only simple dreams, simple nightmares. Setsu's so-called dreams are much, much more than that –much more than those mere horrors born of the darkness of the human mind, they're _memories._

Memories of days as a silver-haired girl called Stella Squalo.

…

Question is… does this make her Setsu, dreaming of being Stella? Or is she Stella, dreaming of being Setsu?

What's the difference, if there is any?

…

…

…

"Is there something wrong, Setsu?"

She automatically smiles.

"No, Mother. Nothing's wrong."

The woman looks upon her in concern, pursing her lips and crossing her arms, "Are you sure? You've been acting a little… different, recently. Are you sure there's nothing wrong? Nothing bothering you?"

She shakes her head and keeps on smiling.

**LVIII.**

Gokudera loses.

It's not his fault.

"_S-Sorry, Juudaime… I… I guess I just… wanted to see the fireworks again with everyone…"_

A nasty, rattling cough. Tsuna rushes forward to support his friend, followed by the rest of the group in less than a heartbeat. Romario steps forward to take care of Gokudera's injuries.

Her ears still ring with Tsuna's words.

_Fireworks._

… She remembers the fireworks. Of course she does. How can she forget? How can she forget those brilliant bursts of colorful lights splattering against the backdrop of a starry night sky? But more than the fireworks themselves, she remembers sitting together with all of them on that thin blanket on the grass –laughing and chattering away, something so light and warm surfacing in her chest–

A quick, fleeting sensation.

Because she remembered days when it was _so much more, _and though this was similar and she knew they cared, _it just wasn't the same._

But, she reasoned… In a way, it was to be expected, wasn't it? She was accepted into their fold, but she didn't _fit, _not quite. Not exactly. Not like the rest of them did. Maybe once, if only barely, but… not anymore. Not quite. Even if they themselves had yet to notice the change.

She openly admitted to herself that Tsuna had pretty flames, and he would make a wonderful Sky –open and accepting of all. But. _But. _There was also no doubt in her mind that he fit best with people like Gokudera and Yamamoto and Lambo and Ryohei. And even Yuuto. Even Hibari.

Because he was _kind _and _compassionate _and _gentle_. And there was a part of her that admired him for it –just as much as another part of her scoffed quietly and shook her head in silence at what she saw.

Because she knew, the same way she had always known.

Sawada Tsunayoshi would never be able to become a mafia boss.

He _wouldn't._

Where ruthlessness was required, he would show mercy. Where trickery was required, he would show honesty. Where an immovable, unshakeable, iron-fisted stance was required on a certain subject –he would show a willingness for compromise. And that was weakness weakness _weakness._

Sawada Tsunayoshi was an admirable person and a wonderful sky, but he wasn't fit to be a mafia boss.

Xanxus, on the other hand.

She had no doubts about Xanxus's capability to lead a mafia famiglia –a Famiglia whose legacy was built on an empire forged from corpses and bloodshed. Of lies and deceit. It was the world he knew –the world _she _knew– and it was also a world that the kind-hearted Tsuna would never be able to accept, be able to allow himself to become part of.

She admired him for it, a little.

And just as a part of her admired him for it, another part of her wondered what the Nono was playing at by appointing Tsuna as his successor. It was a no-brainer that if Tsuna really became Vongola Decimo, then that would just be the recipe for a disaster of the highest order waiting to happen.

Because if he really wanted to take over the sins of Vongola–

Because if he really wanted to drown himself in their tainted world–

Because if he really wanted to become a mafia boss–

Because she knew that if it was _her _in his place tonight, she would not have ordered Gokudera to think of his own safety and retreat, not without first securing possession of the Storm Ring.

And idly, she wondered what kind of person that decision made her… and if they would hate her for it, if they knew about it.

…

_But if it were Faust or Alfredo, or even Superbi who was fighting for you in that scenario –would you still be able to make a decision like that in cold blood?_

… No.

But.

But she knew that if it was _Tsuna, _if Tsuna was the one making the decisions and calling the shots, then he wouldn't allow _anyone _to die on his account; not if he could help it.

… Would it really be such a bad thing?

Maybe.

**LIX.**

Squalo quickly ducked under another half-filled wine glass mere seconds before it made contact with his head, not that it helped him any. He received an entire bottle crashing down on him the moment the wine glass shattered into pieces against the carpeted ground.

"VOI! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

"Trash," Xanxus sneered. Squalo spared a brief moment to wonder when it was –the last time he saw his Boss in any mood other than the perpetual, boiling, frothing rage–

… Then again, if _he'd _been the one frozen in ice for six years –_six fucking _years; _what the hell the old Nono was thinking with that move, he would never know– _Squalo conceded that he'd probably be a little pissed, too.

Okay, more than a little pissed. Pretty pissed off.

…

… Scratch that, make that _very pissed off_.

"If you don't win your match tomorrow," Xanxus narrowed his eyes at him threateningly –_and really,_ _when had been the last time he'd looked at anyone with something else in his eyes, ever since his sister had_– "I will personally _gut _you."

Squalo easily shook off the heat of the threat and smirked at him.

"Like hell I'd lose, shitty Boss."

Predictably, he got another glass of wine to the head for his efforts. This time, Squalo didn't even bother dodging and just let it hit him –better than getting an entire bottle of the stuff to his head again.

**LX.**

"Okay, on the count of three! One… two… three! Yamamoto, FIGHT!"

As always, Ryohei's voice rang the loudest in their customary cheer. And they were certainly in a good mood right now –currently, they were in possession of two of the seven rings, while the Varia was only in possession of one. It was an accomplishment to be proud of, and an advantage they would want to keep.

Superbi was fighting tonight.

_Superbi._

She watched silently as Yamamoto smiled cheerily at them and tossed one final wave over his shoulder, before turning heel and heading down, down, down–

Down towards the darkness.

Towards the darkness of the water-filled chambers where her silver-haired brother was waiting.

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

The poll is now **closed.** :3 Thank you to everyone who voted! We'll finish up the Varia arc in the next chapter. Hopefully.

Little off topic, but there's a **new pairing poll** on my profile now –one for _Onwards Till Dawn. _Go vote, if you're interested? :D 'No pairing' is an option this time, so please don't start sending me complaints about how I'm "ruining" that story by introducing the idea of a pairing for Tsubaki. Zuiyun agreed with me to put up the poll and it's _our _story; we get the final say in what happens 'cuz we're the authors for that xD (_Polaris _and _Canopus _are my own :3). Besides, it's not 100% guaranteed that we'll even add a pairing anyways, based on the results we receive…

So, back to _Canopus._ :)

Yes, I stated here that Xanxus was frozen for six years, not eight. Different from the manga there, I think? So consider this little tidbit AU, I guess.

As of the moment, we're done with Ryohei, Lambo, Gokudera, and leaving off on Yamamoto. Next will be finishing off Yamamoto's battle, moving onto Yuuto's, Hibari's, and Tsuna's, before we (hopefully) tie everything up and get into the Future arc. Actually, Tsuna's battle might not fit entirely in the next chapter, so it's possible that it'll end up cutting into the chapter after that, but… well, let's just hope we can get things done soon, shall we? :D

**QUESTION: **What do you look forward to seeing most in the Future arc?

Keep an eye out for mistakes in the text, please. And don't forget to drop a review to let me know what you think! :) Till next time, everyone. :3

-XxZuiliu


	7. LXI-LXX (Extra: Breakfast Omake)

**LXI.**

For a moment, her mind is perfectly blank.

(The exact moment when Yamamoto unexpectedly completes his own technique to the Shigure Souen Ryu and brings the blunt side of his katana crashing down on the back of her brother's skull.)

It's part skill, part stubbornness, but also luck.

Mostly luck, she thinks to herself, watching her brother fall.

What if there hadn't been water in their surroundings? What if he didn't have anything to use to create a mirror reflection of himself? Superbi had been confident in his victory; _she _had been confident in his victory –right up until the moment Yamamoto had burst through a wall of water and swung his sword down.

If Superbi hadn't toyed with him in the beginning, hadn't grown curious enough to poke around at the supposedly invincible Shigure Souen Ryu–

And just as Yamamoto snapped the two halves of the Vongola Ring of Rain together, the Cervello released a shark into the playing field.

And.

And Yamamoto hauled her brother up on unsteady legs–

And the shark swam closer and closer, lured by the scent of blood, the promise of easy prey–

And Superbi, he–

_He shoved Yamamoto away from him with the last dredges of his strength; shoved with enough force to bodily throw the young boy onto higher ground._

_To safety._

She didn't expect it.

Her reaction was… instinctive.

Two layers. Two layers of Mist, one to cloud the eyes of the onlookers –_"Not allowed to interfere in battles; outsiders must remain outsiders"– _and another to settle around the blood-crazed animal. The shark's body slammed into the crumbling ruins of the wall, merely clipping her brother on the side and sending him tumbling into the rubble-filled waters instead of swallowing him whole. She twitched her fingers, watching the animal's body contort once, twice–

It thrashed one final time before falling over, dead.

She chanced a surreptitious glance at the others around her. Tsuna didn't seem to notice anything wrong, though he was frowning –no doubt from the illusion she'd cast, the image of her brother being devoured by the shark right in front of their very eyes. Dino tossed a surprised look in her direction, but she made no acknowledgment of his reaction.

(She'd seen it, while casting the illusions… it seemed like Dino had expected something like this to happen tonight, if he'd purposely sent his men to hide in the battleground beforehand.)

No interference, indeed.

Her gaze cut across to the Varia, and–

_He was watching her._

Something that had coiled resentfully and bitterly in her chest relaxed at seeing the scarred man's hand lower from where it had been hovering over one of the twin guns he always carried with him.

And then Xanxus laughed.

**LXII.**

"There's something I'm missing here, isn't there?"

Dino watched quietly from the open doorway, Reborn sitting on his shoulder –as if anyone could refuse the hitman hitching a ride on them, using them as his personal transport– as they gazed at the scene in the hospital room.

The little girl (Nakamura Setsuko. Setsu, they called her?) was fast asleep. That itself wasn't much of a surprise –how old was she, anyways? Ten? The small child had stayed up all night with them in the emergency room when they brought Squalo here for treatments, never straying far from the silver-haired swordsman's side –and wasn't that strange?

This was, after all, _Superbi Squalo _who they were talking about_. _

_Who _in their right mind would take a shine to _Squalo _of all people?! _Especially _a tiny little kid like her?

(Didn't she, y'know, ever hear of this useful thing before called _common sense? _He was pretty sure Squalo would've gutted the little girl along with the other kids that day the fake half-rings were stolen from Basil. So why did she seem so attached to the loud, brash, violent swordsman?)

And, something that was even stranger yet…

_Reborn had allowed her to stay._

Right now, the raven-haired girl was half-sprawled over Squalo's bed from her seat in the chair next to him. It was… an unreasonably cute sight, to see a little girl sleeping quietly at the injured man's side.

Cute, and terrifying.

(What if Squalo woke up? Didn't she have any sort of self-preservation?)

"… I'm not completely convinced of it yet myself," Dino gave his former tutor a blatantly puzzled look, to which he was whacked upside the head for. Ouch. "But I must admit, this is… very persuasive evidence of what I suspect."

He rubbed the lump forming on his skull.

"And what _is _it that you suspect?"

What in the world could explain this strange relationship between this strange little girl and Superbi Squalo? As far as he knew, the two had never even so much as set eyes upon each other prior to this whole Vongola Ring mess. And even then, Dino _knew _Squalo. After all, he'd gone to school with the silver-haired swordsman before. He knew that Squalo wasn't the type to form attachments on a whim –and he wasn't exactly the type that attracted followers, either. The only thing he behind left in his wake was a trail of cowed opponents, dead bodies, and copious amounts of blood.

… The only remotely healthy sort of relationship he recalled Squalo having was the one he shared with his late sister –in those days, anyone who so much as even _breathed _a bad rumor about the sickly girl had a _vicious _Squalo to deal with on their hands. He would know; he'd made that mistake completely by accident before, that time when–

"Just a hunch." Reborn shrugged. "I'll tell you and the others after I confirm it. Wouldn't want to be wrong with something like this, after all."

**LXIII.**

_He kept his promise._

_No he didn't._

"_Take care of my brother." I only acted before him –if I hadn't used the Mist, he would've killed the Cervello's shark before it got to Superbi. He _remembers.

_No. No he doesn't. The Varia doesn't tolerate weakness, don't you know? He pulled out his gun to shoot your brother dead, not to save him from being eaten alive._

_No he didn't._

_Yes he did._

_He kept his promise to me._

_Promises are made to be broken._

…

**LXIV.**

Yuuto was dying.

… No, really, he was. Not figuratively, but _literally_. Dying.

It was… a lot more painful and torturous of a process than he'd expected. Not that he'd deliberately _thought _about dying before, but… he'd always kind of took for granted that he would die when he reached a ripe old age, surrounded by family and loved ones.

Not… not like _this._

_Ice burning his skin and freezing the blood in his veins. Cold, so cold –cracked skin and black blood and pale lips, sore throat– couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't move; couldn't feel anything except the pain wracking his body and there was this pressure pulling him down down _down _and everything was dark and cold and fading fast and bloodied dusk. There was nothing he could do to fight this, nothing he could do but surrender to this inevitable fate, because he was weak and powerless and there was _nothing he could do–

"–to! Yuuto!"

Air.

He could _breathe._

It took Yuuto several moments to realize the brown blob floating in front of him was Tsuna's hair, and then–

"Tch," He bit back a small cry of pain at the hand knuckling itself into the back of his head. It _hurt_, goddamnit, everything was too bright and too strong and too sensitive– "I'm letting you off easy this time, but don't you _dare _worry Juudaime like that again, y'hear?"

Gruff voice, barely-veiled concern. Gokudera.

"Are you alright, Yuuto?" Yamamoto. Yamamoto's… not-so-carefree voice? "How are you feeling?"

"What…" Was that his _voice? _All dry and cracked and… Yuuto swallowed hard, trying to speak again, though his voice sounded more like a croak. "What… happened?"

"You lost," Gokudera didn't bother sugarcoating the truth. Which was just as well; Yuuto could figure _that _much out for himself. Mammon's strength had been completely overwhelming, and… "Mammon trapped you in some sort of blizzard thing, and we couldn't see much of what was going on, but… well, Juudaime got worried_. _And then you started _screaming, _and… the snow turned all red and… Juudaime stepped in to save you."

"Kufufu. No mention of how I took down those flimsy illusions? I feel very much heartbroken by this blatant neglect, Hayato."

"Shut _up, _Rokudo. Juudaime could've handled breaking the illusions just fine by himself!"

"A-Actually, um, I really don't think I could've–"

"Nakamura Yuuto." The aforementioned boy gave a small start at suddenly hearing Reborn's voice cut through the chatter. Their voices immediately died down. "Tsuna saved you, so we had to forfeit possession of the Sky half-ring. That makes it equivalent to two losses. We've lost our advantage –the Varia now have possession of the Storm, Mist, and Sky rings, while we have the Sun, Lightning, and Rain rings. This next battle will decide everything."

Guilt.

Guilt, depression, self-loathing–

"Don't be like that, Reborn!" Tsuna exclaimed, before turning warm brown eyes on Yuuto. _He didn't deserve this, he failed, he didn't– _"It's okay, I don't mind losing the Sky ring." The young brunet bit his lip, before offering him a tentative smile. Trying to put him at ease. "I'm just glad all my friends are okay. This isn't– it's not– I don't even want to be a mafia boss in the first place, anyways. These rings, they're not… they're not worth throwing away your life for. We still have to see the fireworks together again, right?"

Yuuto stared.

_See the fireworks together. Those are the same words Tsuna said to Gokudera when…_

…

He sighed, slinging up an arm to cover his eyes.

"… Watch the fireworks together, huh?"

And if his weak, trembling voice wavered suspiciously on the last note, no one made any mention of it.

**LXV.**

"… _So that's settled, then. Keep an eye on my nephew for me, Alfredo? I'll be heading to Namimori at the end of the week."_

**LXVI.**

It takes less than a minute for Hibari to immobilize Gola Mosca.

_It definitely takes more than a minute for him to goad Xanxus into taking action._

It takes less than a minute for the onlookers to realize that something is wrong wrong _wrong_ when the Varia's Cloud Guardian begins moving again, firing indiscriminately at anything and everything that moved.

_It definitely takes more than a minute for them to figure out a way to fight against the out-of-control machine, and by then it's already too late, for Gola Mosca is bearing down on them and–_

It takes less than a minute for Tsuna to take down the monster, only to discover the old Vongola Nono trapped inside.

_And._

When explanations come to light and everything is revealed, it takes Tsuna only a mere fraction of a second to find his resolve to stand against the cruel Varia Boss.

…

…

…

"_Xanxus, I will not allow someone like you to become Vongola Decimo."_

…

**LXVII.**

She watches quietly.

She isn't quite sure what to feel –Xanxus is a better candidate to become a mafia boss in almost every single way, more suited to become Vongola Decimo. So in a manner of speaking, she's glad that he's dominating the pace of the battle, that he's _winning. _But at the same time, Tsuna doesn't deserve this –he was forced into everything, forced onto a path he didn't want to take and his friends along with him and it's not _fair, _really. Tsuna is a kind person, but there is no room for kindness in the mafia.

But when has the world ever been fair?

She watches quietly as Tsuna crashes into the ground, and his flames flicker once, twice, and then–

Everything changes.

_Zero Point Breakthrough._

Ice.

And suddenly, even before Superbi fills in the missing gaps of information for them as they watch the duo clash together again, as Tsuna grips his hands and the ice spreads spreads _spreads, _she knows.

Six years of being trapped, of being encased in ice. Six years of festering resentment. Six years of pain and anger.

A lifetime of lies.

Betrayal.

… She knows even before Mammon comes and melts the ice with the Vongola Rings that Xanxus won't become Vongola Decimo. Blood and birthright have _weight _in their world –heritage and honor and prestige passed down family lines from generation to generation; proof of existence and of recognition–

The Squalo House had been a Noble House. There had been a very good _reason _why she was able to hold onto the seat of power in their line, one that had nothing to do with her abilities and everything to do with the blood that flowed in her veins.

Because in some ways, blood means everything in their world; much more than disposition and ability and suitability.

She watches quietly as Xanxus slips on the Sky Ring and–

Blood fills the air.

She closes her eyes.

**LXVIII.**

"_The victor of the Sky battle has been determined. Thus, the conflict over the Vongola Rings is now concluded. The Vongola Decimo candidate will be Sawada Tsunayoshi."_

Light, soundless footsteps.

The Cervello make to stop the child as she walks towards the fallen man on the ground –_hurtpainangerRAGE– _but their hands grasp nothing as the image of the raven-haired little girl before them wavers and fades into nothingness.

Hazel eyes flick over the pink-haired women dismissively before turning back to Xanxus again, and the little girl crouches down next to him, unmindful of kneeling in blood.

_Why?_

A simple question. Asking everything and nothing all at once.

But there isn't an answer to it.

So she doesn't ask and he doesn't answer, and somehow that suits the both of them perfectly fine as she reaches out a hand and gently takes the ring from him.

…

…

…

And Reborn watches on with contemplative eyes.

**LXIX.**

It's Sousei's fault.

… Shouichi's fault, too, but she maintains that it's mostly Sousei's fault.

Mostly.

"Yuuto accidently left this ring lying around in my room," Sousei carefully handed the completed Vongola Mist Ring to her, making sure to curl her fingers around it in her palm. "It's supposed to be pretty important, right? Mind taking it back to him, Setsu? I think he's out in the baseball field with Yamamoto again."

She hadn't looked too deeply into it –Yuuto could be a bit of a scatterbrain at times, though she had thought he would have the good sense to carry his Vongola ring with him at all times– and so she set off towards the neighborhood park without a second thought.

That had been when she ran across Irie Shouichi.

"Oh, you're heading for the park? Do you, err, mind telling Lambo that his Boss sent my family another box of…" Here the redhead cringed, and so she quickly assured him that she would tell the five year old to pick up his firearms and explosives if she happened to come across him in the park.

And, as it happened, she _did _come across him in the park.

The baseball field was surprisingly empty, but Lambo had been running around on the playground with I-pin–

"Lambo-san is the best!" The five year old child bounced up and down on tiny legs, boasting. "Lambo-san's boss sends him all kinds of goodies all the time! Look!"

… Really, when it comes down to everything, it's all Sousei's fault. And Shouichi's. But mostly Sousei's, for making her get out of the house at all.

…

It certainly wasn't the first time she'd seen the kid pull out his purple time-traveling bazooka in the midst of his excited babble and fire it.

However, it _was _the first time she'd seen him trip in the middle of firing it, and she just so happened to have gotten close enough when it bounced once, twice–

And then she was falling, falling through the restless currents of time.

…

…

…

(To be honest, she hadn't expected time to be colored such an obnoxious shade of pink. But then again, it was a hideous purple bazooka that had been slammed over her head –and what else could one expect of a_ purple bazooka?_)

**LXX.**

_The world ten years in the future is a very different sort of world than the one we left behind._

* * *

_Extra._

* * *

**Bonus: Omake –Breakfast.**

"Good morning!"

A cheerful greeting. Yuuto nodded amiably in his father's direction, echoing back the customary words in a light, carefree tone as he took his usual spot at the kitchen table.

Even though he was feeling far from cheerful right now.

Nervousness, fear, anticipation… His palms felt sweaty even just thinking about the fight that awaited him tonight. Was he ready? Everyone had been put in the hospital after their matches –except for Lambo, but he didn't count. The kid had somehow pulled out a twenty years later version of himself to fight in his place! In his opinion, it was entirely unfair he could do so; really, was there no justice in this world–

He mumbled a quiet 'thank you' when Setsu reached over and passed him his usual glass of milk. After absentmindedly drinking a mouthful and setting the cup down on the table–

He promptly choked.

"What's the matter, Yuuto?" His father finally looked up from this morning's newspapers, brows furrowing in concern. "Are you feeling alright?"

The young boy sputtered incoherently, finding himself at a sudden loss for words, because–

Really.

What the hell was going on?!

"He probably drank the milk too fast again, Papa." Setsu was smiling –calm and sedate and utterly unperturbed. Yuuto settled for gaping at her in mute betrayal as he tried to find his voice again, because that wasn't–

She turned to her left and completely ignored him.

"More toast, Superbi?"

... And Superbi Squalo, Sword Emperor and Vice-Captain of the Varia, in all his bandaged glory, sitting at his seat of honor in a wheelchair across from Yuuto at the table –only scowled and gave Setsu a long-suffering look before reluctantly snatching the slice of buttered bread from her hands.

Yuuto tried and failed to pick up the bottom of his jaw from the ground. Points for a valiant-even-though-ultimately-useless effort, maybe?

"Voi, what are you staring at?" Squalo growled, glaring.

Yuuto blanched.

(Bandaged like a mummy and stuck in a wheelchair or not, the silver-haired swordsman was SCARY!)

"Don't be so rude, Yuuto" His mother chided gently as she finally came over from the kitchen and sat down at the table, directing a friendly smile to the wheelchair-bound assassin currently eating breakfast with them. Yuuto was still trying to wrap his head around that little bit of reality. Or maybe he was still dreaming? Gods, he hoped he would wake up soon... "We rarely have guests over for meals, don't we?"

His father took this moment to chip in his own two cents, completely overlooking how Yuuto was pinching his arm in rising panic. "Since Squalo-san got injured from helping oversee that sumo wrestling tournament you boys are playing in, the least we can do is offer some breakfast. Really, Yuuto –you're the older brother, why did Setsu have to be the one to invite him over?"

At this point, you could hit the poor boy over the head with a brick, and he'd still remain stock-still.

"It's okay, I'm more familiar with Superbi than Yuuto." The smile on Setsu's face right now was perfectly sweet and adorable. "He's even walked me to school before!"

"Oh, really? I must thank you for that then, Squalo-san! Here, have some more coffee…"

Yuuto watched with incredulous eyes as his father reached over and refilled the assassin's cup with the caffeinated drink that was all but sacred in this household.

"Sorry for interrupting, but I'll be leaving now!" Sousei called from the doorway, tossing a small wave over his shoulder. "Shouichi found some interesting gadgets to fiddle around with the other day, so I'll be heading over to his house to help out."

"Okay, stay safe!"

The young boy almost felt like screaming at this point. Why were they acting like this was normal?! How was this even possible in the first place, anyways?

"Actually, I should probably get going now, too." Setsu set down her empty cup of tea and stood up from her seat. "After all, I promised Dino that I would take Superbi back to the hospital for another checkup this morning. Wouldn't want him getting worried now, would we?"

Yuuto almost fell off his chair when Setsu began cheerfully wheeling the mummified swordsman out through the doorway, a spring in her steps that he'd never seen before.

"... Such a strange fellow," his mother remarked as the door swung shut behind them. "He's a little on the grumpy side with all those scowls of his, but at least Setsu seems to be fond of him. What do you think, Yuuto? … Yuuto?"

The woman reached snapped her fingers in front of her son, blinking in surprise when there was no reaction.

"Huh. Guess mornings really are a little too early to have guests over, eh? Maybe we should tell you beforehand when we invite someone to breakfast next time?"

Yuuto made a strangled-sounding whimper not unlike the noise of a dying cat in the back of his throat.

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

The bonus omake at the end was largely inspired by **erimies**. :3 I've never written any omakes before, so… any thoughts, guys? Also, is anyone interested in seeing more omakes/extras? If you have any ideas, I'm open to suggestions.

So, now that we're finally heading into the Future arc… do we have any predictions for what will happen? :D I'm pretty excited to start writing this part of the story, guys. Though that might be because I still haven't gotten around to writing anything for the Future arc in _Onwards Till Dawn, _and the wait is seriously killing me. xD

**QUESTION: **Just kind of curious about it here. Do you think Setsu/Stella is alive or dead ten years in the future? Any reasons why?

Please leave a note on what you think of this chapter and/or any mistakes you see in the text. Till next time then, everyone. :3

-XxZuiliu


	8. LXXI-LXXX

**LXXI.**

She opens her eyes to darkness.

Flowers.

She's surrounded by flowers. Dry petals brushing against her skin and pressing into her back. She's always liked flowers, but even with the sweet floral scent surrounding her, this darkness is overwhelming –and while she likes flowers, she doesn't like the cold, never has–

She touches something hard when she reaches up with her fingertips. Cold, smooth, hard.

… Stone?

Indigo flames circle around her as she sits up, melting through whatever is holding her here in the cold darkness with the dry flowers and–

Sunlight.

She automatically raises a hand to cover her eyes, blinking rapidly. The sudden transition from absolute darkness to blinding light is difficult to adjust to, and she squints when she catches sight of–

_Gravestones?_

She carefully surveys her surroundings.

A grassy, green field. Filled with stone slabs and grave markers and wilting bouquets.

_Lambo. Purple Bazooka. Ten years in the future._

…

_I'm dead?_

Her lips tilt into a small frown at the unappealing prospect –but it wasn't as if she could deny it; solid, undeniable proof lay right in front of her eyes, and she'd be a fool to dismiss it as a trick of the light. But… what could kill her? She wasn't being arrogant with this question; it had taken Byakuran's heavy interference for Aconito to barely succeed in killing her the first time around, and now she wasn't even crippled by a debilitating illness anymore, so what…?

…

The cemetery was quiet, not a single soul in sight. She wasn't quite sure what to do at this point –and it wasn't like there was much she could do, anyways… only five minutes, and then she'd be gone.

…

Of course something has to go wrong.

**LXXII.**

"_Captain, there's a strong ring signal coming from the northeast direction!"_

"_Alright, men. Head out!"_

"_Roger!"_

…

…

…

Mist flames leaped into the sky.

**LXXIII.**

"Faust?"

"Bzzzt, nope. Try again."

A brief look of confusion flitted across the little girl's face –so much younger than what he always remembered seeing– and Fran looked away again, raising a hand and letting his Mist flames create another layer of illusions over her own, reinforcing it and _projecting–_

The dumb Millefiore soldiers ran straight into a wall, pelting it with an assortment of rainbow-colored attacks from their box weapons.

"For future reference, my name is Fran," he said blandly. Oh, the things he did… "And please don't call me by my uncle's name again. It's rude. And creepy. You did it the first time around, too."

"Sorry."

She certainly didn't _sound _very sorry, but he'd take what he could get at this point. The 'voi-ing' shark commander would kill him if he let her die on his watch, suddenly shrunken down and chibi-fied or no. And that was only if his pineapple Master didn't get to him first. Or the scowl-y Boss. Or the flaming peacock drag queen. Or the self-proclaimed prince. Or the perverted umbrella freak. Or the late Vongola Decimo's crazy Guardians.

… Okay, so letting her die was a Bad Idea, period. Yes, in Capital Letters. Sigh. Facepalm.

(Mentally, of course.)

…

… Why oh why oh _why _was he the one stuck patrolling this area again?

(Oh right, because he wanted to get away from the annoying fake prince. Like this current situation was any better.)

"That way! They're escaping! The ring signal is headed that way!"

… Ring signal?

Fran glanced down sharply at chibi-Stella –the exact same moment she looked down at her own hand, upon which the Vongola Mist Ring glittered innocently.

…

Suffice to say, things went downhill from there.

**LXXIV.**

"Shark-captain, look at what I found…"

Squalo had been more than ready to tear the mouthy brat a new one when he finally showed up again. Even though Fran was Faust's only nephew and the Varia's current Mist Guardian, that didn't mean he could do as he liked, whenever he liked –they were at _war _right now, the least the kid could do was at least be _punctual _and report on time–

And then his rage died, as quickly as it had flared up in the first place.

It took him several seconds to find his voice again.

_Stella._

He very nearly tripped over the foot of his desk when he stood up, and it was only the presence of a small hand holding him at the elbow that prevented him from falling over and sending all his papers scattering onto the floor.

"Superbi?"

He couldn't help it.

His arms shot around her and crushed her against his chest –for a moment, he was uncaring of the strength he used– and then he could hear that small, startled gasp she let out, but he couldn't–

"Superbi? Are you alright?"

_No, _he wanted to laugh hysterically. _No, no, and _hell _no. Did you really even need to ask? I fucking let you die again. You DIED, and I could've done something, anything–_

Wisely, Fran had retreated from his Vice-Captain's office at this point.

"… The cow's bazooka?" He finally choked out through his throat. Uncaring of the weakness he was showing, because goddamnit _this was his sister and–_

"Yes, but," A slight hesitation. He sharply glanced down at her –_so young, so small, so– _"I… I think there's something wrong with it. Because it's definitely been more than five minutes by now. And…"

She held up the fucking _Vongola Mist Ring_ in her hand, and his blood ran cold.

Astute as always, his sister frowned.

"I think I might be stuck here for awhile. So… What can you tell me about this world, Superbi?"

Oh gods, how he wanted to reach out and _crush _that ring…

"We're at war," he managed to bite out.

_Stella. _Stella. _She was standing here, right in front of him, and–_

"… Yes, I might've noticed that when I was attacked randomly by soldiers in the middle of nowhere." Her voice was dry, and he couldn't help but let out a sharp laugh at hearing it, because _shit,_ _this was his sister. _

"They're called the Millefiore. Combination of the Gesso and Giglio Nero." His eyes refocused on his sister, watching for a reaction. Waiting for a reaction, because if the documents Alfredo had passed on to him were true, if what he suspected was true… "The Boss is called Byakuran."

There.

Her eyes had widened briefly, minutely, _something _flitting across darkening gray –something much more than simple recognition– before her expression immediately shuttered off, and Squalo had a sudden feeling of déjà vu since it was the _exact_ same expression she'd worn when–

"I see." Clipped, short voice. _Definitely _something wrong. "Current situation?"

"Not good," he delivered the words bluntly, still studying her face. Still looking for any emotions that would slip through the cracks and let him _know _if his sister was up to something again, because he'd be damned if he let her run off by herself again. If he let her _die _again.

So.

"We've lost a lot of people," he folded his arms. _Breathe. It's your sister. Stella, Stella, _Stella. "CEDEF went completely silent after Iemitsu disappeared and his second-in-command, Res, went and got herself killed while getting the Rain Arcobaleno out of Millefiore hands. Fat load of good that did; fucking anti-Tri-ni-sette radiation killed the whole lot of them less than a week after that. Mammon included. CEDEF is pretty much in shambles now... and so is the main Vongola family, after that Sawada Tsunayoshi died. Assassinated at a _peace negotiation_, of all things. Their Cloud Guardian is still up and running that Foundation thing of his, but they don't have many members since the guy apparently hates _crowding."_

"… The Varia is basically the last fighting force, then?"

He nodded.

"Not good," she breathed, and he snorted.

"Tell me about it."

**LXXV.**

Levi spews his drink all across the table when he catches sight of a tiny raven-haired girl walking next to Squalo, when the upper Varia echelon gathers for dinner that night. Lussuria drops his plate and Bel's hands slip in the middle of cutting his steak. Fran is the only one in the group who carries on like everything is perfectly normal, though his eyes involuntarily flicker to the man sitting at the head of the table out of a healthy sense of self-preservation.

For Xanxus had stilled completely upon seeing the girl –and for a moment, the room is deathly silent.

…

She isn't quite sure why he suddenly stands up, clenching his jaw, barking a terse order for her brother to follow as he strides away. He's different –they're _all _different. A single glance, and she can already tell that the war in this world –this war with the Millefiore, with _Byakuran– _has not been kind to them.

War is never kind.

"The ten year bazooka malfunctioned," her soft voice finally breaks the hush that had befallen the room after the doors have slammed shut behind Xanxus, her brother trailing in his footsteps. "For the foreseeable future, I will be… imposing here until they manage to fix whatever is wrong with it, and I apologize for any inconveniences that my presence brings. It's a pleasure to meet you all."

She finishes her words with a small incline of her head, and–

"Mou, you don't have to be so polite with us!" Lussuria suddenly swoops down on the young little girl, mother-henning behavior abruptly turned to maximum settings. "Here, have some of the steak! We…"

…

But even though Lussuria is doing his best to help her settle in, fussy and cheerful, trying to make her comfortable amongst them, she can't help but… _notice. _The way they look at her, half-wistful, half-sad, even though they hide it well under callous words and careless jibes as they slowly return to their meals, putting up a wonderful mimicry of normalcy…

Why?

When Xanxus had abruptly left the room –turmoil and regret, mixing with pain, before he turned to Superbi and she could no longer read his eyes–

_Why?_

**LXXVI.**

"_Why, Xanxus?"_

_Raw, unblemished pain. He could hear it in her voice, clear as day._

"_You know why." Rough, short, to-the-point blunt. He had never been one to mince words, even though he knew well that now probably wasn't the best time to be so… "He asked. I agreed."_

"_You should've told me."_

_He growled, seized by a sudden bout of frustration, because, fuck –didn't she_ see?

"_And what would you have done, if you went?" Sharp, biting tone. A flicker of resentment curled in her eyes, and he ruthlessly stomped down the spark of pain in his chest. At knowing he was the cause. "Nothing would've changed, Stella, and you would be dead as well."_

"_Maybe," her fingers tightened around each other before she forcibly relaxed them one by one. Regaining control over herself, reigning in her displeasure. "But you had no right to keep something like this from me. You can't–"_

"_I have the right to do whatever the hell I want," his voice cut across hers harshly. "Don't presume to hold power over me."_

_Silence._

… _Shit. _

_He didn't– It wasn't– _

"_I see," this time, there was no inflection at all in her tone, and somehow that made her words hurt all the more. "I… apologize. It was not my intention to order you to do anything, Lord Xanxus."_

"_You're not–"_

"_I will be taking my leave now," she stood up from the seat, every bit as graceful as the cold Lady in distant memories. "Good-bye."_

_There was a note of finality ringing in her words, and then he felt it._

_A spark of anger, of irritation._

"Sit. Down."

_For a moment, the authority embedded in his voice stopped her in her tracks. Or perhaps it was because she heard something else in those two words? She had always been so very perceptive–_

_A glacial smile crept over her lips, hazel eyes cracked and glittering with frost._

"… _Why should I? You hold no power over me."_

_She swept through the doors just as a bottle of wine smashed against the floor._

**LXXVII.**

A tired sigh.

The young man finally leaned back in his chair, stretching. Brown hair, brown eyes –in terms of looks, he was as simple in appearance as any passerby on the streets could be. Sometimes, he wondered why he didn't choose a normal civilian life. It would certainly be much easier than the life he was leading right now…

(… As if it wouldn't all be the same in the end.)

"Nakamura-sama, Irie-sama wishes to speak with you."

"Alright," the young man nodded curtly at the pink-haired woman standing behind him. "I'll save the data here and head over. He should still be in his rooms, right?"

"I believe so."

"Just a second, then."

And soon he is walking down the hallway, flanked by his Cervello aide, thoughts racing a mile a minute, because if Shouichi has chosen _now _to call him, then surely it means that–

A set of doors slide open, revealing a redhead looking up from the reports in his hand and smiling.

"Finally here, Sousei? I have… news, regarding the Vongola."

_And so it begins._

**LXXVIII.**

"Reborn, what should we do?! You said we have to gather all the Guardians together for this attack on the Melone base, but Yuuto isn't here!"

"We'll just have to make do without him, then."

"_Reborn!"_

"Quiet, Dame-Tsuna. Or do you want me to ask Hibari to double your sparring sessions?"

"…"

"Thought so. Now… less talking, more training!"

"B-But aren't we already– Wait, no! Stop!_ Don't shoot that thing in here–_ HIEEEEEEE!"

**LXXIX.**

_There is a star-filled lake, shrouded in Mist._

_There is a boat, forever floating in the exact same spot._

_There is also a girl. Silver-haired and pale-skinned and otherworldly-graceful as she walks the surface of the starlit waters without so much as a single ripple shivering underfoot._

_She watches on wordlessly._

_Stella Squalo._

_Nakamura Setsuko._

_The two are so very, very similar to each other, and yet so different at the same time. She would know._

_(… More like she was the only one who would ever know.)_

"_I don't understand," she admits aloud. The words echo over the starry waters, brushing over gentle waves before fading into rolling mists. It feels nice –being able to admit to and show weakness, even if it's only in the privacy of her own mind. Stella had never done so. Stella had never allowed herself to show any signs of weakness. Stella had controlled herself with an iron grip on her feelings –even if those feelings had eventually run away from her in the end._

_For how can you control fickle emotions?_

_Setsu embraced weakness. Because strength is brittle, and weakness breeds compassion._

_(Stella has no need for compassion.)_

"_This world…" She kicks lightly at the waters with her bare feet, watching tiny crystal droplets fly away from her and land in a quiet splash. The restless waves return to stillness once more. "I'm scared. That's only normal, isn't it? After all, I'm… I'm dead here, aren't I?"_

_The word 'again' remained unsaid._

"_It scares me," she repeated. Repetition was necessary. "This world, it scares me. Anything… anything that can put out the light in their eyes… scares me. I can see their sorrow, their rage, the darkness that lurks behind their eyes, no matter how well they try to hide it from me. But what can I do about it? My presence here… I can see it. To them, it is as much a curse as it is a blessing, for reasons I can't fathom."_

_A small pause._

"_What am I to them?" A soft question, to which there was no response. "Superbi, I can understand, but… what am I to the rest of the Varia, for them to react this way? Or rather, should I say… who are _you _to them?"_

_The silver-haired girl finally lifted her face and looked directly into her eyes._

_Hazel eyes against stormy gray._

"_They call me Stella," her voice came out remarkably steady. "It's not a lie. I _am_ Stella, to a certain degree. But you –you are truly Stella Squalo just as she was in life, are you not?"_

_The girl said nothing, and she sighed._

"_Sometimes… sometimes, I wonder who Setsu is. Or if she even existed at all." A small pause. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you? Setsu's existence… ever since those dreams and voices came into her life, her existence had always been closely intertwined with that of Stella's. It's hard, trying to remember who she was like without your influence."_

_Stella remained silent._

"… _Saa, why do I even bother anymore?" She shook her head and finally stood up in the boat, gathering tendrils of Mist around her as she prepared to leave the dark recesses of her mind. To return to reality. "You never answer anything I ask, anyways." _

_A small note of disappointment, one that was easily ignored by the silver-haired girl, just as it always was._

_Then, impulsively, right before she faded:_

"_I don't suppose you could tell me who I am?"_

…

…

…

_The silver-haired girl watched the raven-haired one disappear from sight, and a single word slipped past pale, ashen lips._

Fake.

**LXXX.**

It's a little strange.

When Lussuria brought her to her room –_her _room; there was actually a room reserved for her here with the Varia– she had been surprised.

No, it wasn't the room itself that surprised her. The room was perfectly normal, and she could even see small signs of her living habits scattered all over the place –the pens on the wooden desk were all lined to the left, blanket corners folded in from force of habit, a jar of chamomile tea leaves sitting quietly on the bookshelf–

It wasn't the room that surprised her.

What surprised her was the fine layer of dust that had settled over everything in here.

… Then again, she was supposed to be dead, was she not? How long had she been dead for? Months? Years?

"Oh dear." She blinked, and suddenly the door was closed again. Looking up, she saw Lussuria gently wrap an arm around her as he steered her down the hallway again, backtracking in the direction from whence they came. "Sorry, I would've thought that they'd have enough sense to clean your room, what with your arrival here and all–"

"It's alright," she allowed herself to be easily directed towards the staircase, offering no token of resistance. "I can guess why no one would want to go into my room." _Because I'm dead. _"Superbi told them to stay away, then?"

"Actually…" there was a strange note of hesitation in Lussuria's voice as he trailed off, something entirely uncharacteristic of him.

Naturally, her curiosity was piqued –and so she looked up, batting wide gray eyes at him.

He didn't stand a chance.

"Squalo wasn't the one who gave out the orders. Someone else beat him to it." The flashy Sun Guardian looked around furtively, assuring that it was only the two of them in the immediate vicinity, before leaning down and whispering into her ear.

"_Our dear Boss is the one_ _who sealed off your room."_

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Super fast update. :3

So. Future arc! YES! :D Omg you guys have no idea how happy I am to finally get into the Future arc stuff, haha. Seriously, I think the Future arc in KHR is my favorite part of the entire storyline… oh do I have plaaaaans for this, yes I do. xD

Ahem. Anyways.

… I'm pretty surprised that so many people w̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶o̶p̶t̶i̶m̶i̶s̶t̶i̶c̶ ̶e̶n̶o̶u̶g̶h̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶ thought that Setsu/Stella was alive ten years later. xD Heh. Any ideas on how she possibly died? And what's wrong with Xanxus?

(Whistles innocently)

Pretty sure most people can guess what happened to Sousei in the future at this point. I might have another twist up my sleeve regarding him, though. We'll see. ;3 And yes, Setsu/Stella is in Italy with the Varia.

When I was writing the part where Fran was all like, "Hey, shark-captain, lookies what I found…" I was hit with this sudden mental image of 'Hey, look at what the cat dragged in…' xD Kind of matches Fran, right? I had a little bit of trouble writing from his POV there; hope it didn't feel too off.

**QUESTION: **Any guesses on Setsu/Stella's box animal? Suggestions?

Till next time then, everyone. :D The Future arc is going to be so fuuuuuun. xD –Insert evil cackling–

-XxZuiliu


	9. LXXXI-XC

**LXXXI.**

_Plip. Plip. Plip._

Raindrops. A quiet shower, not a thundering downpour. Soft wisps of warm rain trailing down from clouded summer skies, not ice-cold needles racing from chilling winter heavens. Summer rains like this one were rare and came few and far between –it's something she can appreciate, something wholly cleansing and cathartic through the tumultuous haze of grief and numbness weighing down on her mind right now.

_Plip._

… They're dead.

Faust. Alfredo. Both of whom were _dead. _By setting a trap and luring the Millefiore to the Squalo Manor, where they had lain in ambush–

_Dead._

… What in the world had her future self been doing? She couldn't imagine sitting back and just letting them _die –_why hadn't she been there? Apparently, she'd been with the Varia when they went through with this suicidal plan of theirs, but why…?

_Why hadn't she been there?_

…

_Plip. Plip._

She sighed, standing up and padding silently across her room as she tried to clear her mind, reaching up into the closet and–

_Clack._

… What was that?

A small rosewood picture frame. Slightly worn at the edges, faded colors–

She drops it on the ground as if burned.

Because.

Because what it shows is _impossible._

She would never– _He _would never– It didn't make sense!

Her eyes stared unseeingly at the two people standing together in the aged photograph, thoughts racing a mile a minute.

(He almost shattered her _mind! _Even when he'd been training Yuuto, there hadn't been any signs of them remotely even being… So why in the world…?)

It was almost _unthinkable; _and yet, there it was. Solid proof in front of her eyes.

… Why him?

Why _Mukuro?_

**LXXXII.**

"_So, Master, will you be coming?"_

"_Kufufu. Need you even ask, dear apprentice of mine?"_

"_Boss is going to get mad when he sees your pineapple-head around here again."_

"_He has no choice in this matter, and I have every right to be present. And watch that impertinent tongue of yours before I tear it out from your mouth."_

"… _Gulp."_

**LXXXIII.**

The drawers of her desk are empty. Or rather, the drawers of her future self's desk are empty.

No clues here, then.

She gently slides the last drawer back in place, biting her lip. Because it's _frustrating –_for all that she sees little signs of her living habits here, her future self might as well as have been a ghost living in this room.

Journals? Empty.

Papers? Blank_._

… Yes, there were pens on the table and folded-corners blankets on the bed and a box of chamomile on the shelves. But those were virtually the only signs that _she _had been the one who had once lived in this room. Nothing else to tell her what kind of person she had been in the future, nothing to give her even the slightest _hint_ of what she had been doing. Surely she wouldn't have idly sat by and twiddled her thumbs while the war was going on?

(Surely she wouldn't have done _nothing _while Alredo and Faust both died?)

Other than _the photograph_, there was nothing personal of _her _in this room. And it… disturbed her. More than she'd like to admit to.

Because.

She knows Setsu's living habits. She knows _Stella's _living habits. And she knows that neither of them lived like a traceless ghost.

If the room had really been sealed directly after her death until now, as Lussuria had told her –that meant that no one would've had the opportunity to remove anything from here. Wich meant that this room was perfectly untouched, that this was the way she had left it –that her _future self _had left it–

Unless.

… Unless this _was _her room, except she simply hadn't lived here in a long, long time… perhaps she hadn't been living here at all prior to her death? Maybe she had lived here at some point, but left later on?

But then, why would she leave? What could make her leave? And _why?_

(… Why would they keep her room the way it was, instead of clearing it out for someone else to use?)

…

… It didn't make _sense. _Nothing did, not anymore.

**LXXXIV.**

Xanxus very nearly turns on his heel and walks the other way when he catches sight of _her_ standing there in the corridor, talking to the shark.

_(To think that there would be a day when he considered retreat to be an acceptable option–)_

She was young, _so young. _Somehow, his feet were rooted to the ground as he stood there, staring at her, even though it _hurt _to see her again, even if it was a decade younger than what he remembered seeing. To see the childish form of the woman who had–

"Xanxus?"

Xanxus. Not Lord Xanxus.

Gray eyes.

_Gray eyes_, not hazel.

_They're not the same person. _And a part of him relaxed at seeing it, knowing that the little girl standing down the hallway would be that much easier to differentiate from the woman who had once stood in her place. _The girl you see in front of you right now is not the Stella you know._

So maybe that thought was what allowed him to stand his ground as she flitted towards him –no other way to describe it, her footsteps as light and silent as the day she had kneeled in his blood and–

_Gray, not hazel. She is not your Stella._

Not that _knowing _it had made it any easier, but _damnit _he wouldn't–

"I'm sorry."

… What?

Outwardly, his countenance hadn't changed –and yet he had no doubt that she'd caught some sign of the brief shock that he'd felt from those two simple words, the thoughts that had instinctively flashed through his mind the moment he registered those words from her. _(See? Not your Stella; the Stella you know would never lower her head and apologize and openly admit to any sort of faults; admit to her weakness, because she is anything but weak since she is _strong–_) _

"My presence here –I don't know what my future self did, but… I can tell. Just by being here, I'm causing you unwarranted grief, aren't I? All of you, really." Her gray eyes flickered downwards for a moment, before locking on his own again. And he _couldn't look away. _"For that, I'm sorry. Superbi just told me that the Vongola branch in Japan will be sending someone to pick me up soon. Apparently, most of Tsuna's Guardians have been replaced by their younger selves, similar to my own situation. Even the younger Tsuna is here in this era now, so… I… I'll be gone soon. To join them."

He remained silent.

"Thank you for allowing me to stay here these past few days." A small smile surfaced on her face –soft and gentle. When had he last seen a smile like that directed towards him, ever since…? "Thank you. And for what it's worth, I really am sorry."

Three times.

That made it three times, that she'd said those words to him.

_I'm sorry._

"… Sorry."

Maybe–

Perhaps–

What if–

If only he had been able to say 'sorry' to her, before…

… would that have changed anything?

_(Both of you are stubborn, refusing to back down, and the strength you held, the authority that you prided yourselves on; what eventually destroyed _us_–)_

He gave a low grunt when the shark brushed against him, gold eyes flickering to him in concern, before falling back to the little girl whose hand was still entangled in his coat. As if he _needed _support, as if he–

_(It was that refusal to show weakness that destroyed us, that refusal to relinquish control, that unyielding-arrogance-unbending–)_

"Xanxus?"

"Get out," he suddenly snapped; his voice brusque and harsh. For a moment he saw that bewildered _hurt _in her eyes as she drew back, but he didn't, couldn't, _wouldn't –_and wasn't it better for them to stay that way? _"Get out of my sight." _

He purposely avoided meeting the shark's blistering glower in lieu of watching the hazel-eyed girl slowly turn and leave in absolute silence. Walking away from him, each step she took deepening the wide chasm that existed between them –past, present, and future; a lifetime ago and even in this lifetime now, and perhaps even in every lifetime to come.

…

… Hadn't it always been this way?

**LXXXV.**

_There she was, sitting on that swing in the gardens._

_He smiled, melting out of the shadows to land lightly in front of her._

"_Kufufu. What can I do for you, Stella? It's rare for you to seek out my company like this. Did the Varia finally run out of people to kill?"_

_A flicker of indigo Mist flames snapped irritably at him for that latter comment, and he countered it by coaxing lotus flowers to bloom from her flames. The fragrant blossoms fluttered around the both of them as they fell through the air, and the hazel-eyed girl reached out a single hand to catch one of the lotuses in the center of her palm._

_Mukuro raised an eyebrow when she absentmindedly began running the smooth texture of the petals under her fingertips instead of incinerating them on the spot, as she had done so many countless times before. _

_Their relationship had always been this way –a strange mix of friends and enemies, ensconced within truths and lies. Open deception, where they acknowledged each other's strength as an illusionist by playing tricks of their own whenever they met –which served as much as training as it was a form of amusement for them._

_It's hard to say what they really are to each other. _

_Ever since the day he drew out Stella Squalo from the darkest depths of Nakamura Setsuko's mind, when Mukuro looked into her soul and she reached back into his –in some ways, they would always be standing on opposite ends to each other, forever held at arm's length. But at the same time –in a twisted sense of things– they also knew each other better than anyone else would ever know, even aside from the strange kinship forged from walking from life to death and back again._

_For when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back into you._

"… _It's nothing." Stella finally said, letting the lotus flower cupped in her hands fall. He watched curiously as she threaded another sliver of her Mist into the scattering petals, turning them all into a dozen butterflies dancing on the wind. Female illusionists have always loved beauty, but it wasn't like her to be so whimsical –not with him, at least. "Really, it's nothing. Nothing at all."_

… _How interesting, the tone of her voice. Just who is she trying to convince? Him? … Or herself?_

"_Positive of that now, are we?" He inserted a small drawl into his voice, knowing it would grate on her nerves, considering the mood she was in. "'Nothing' now, is it?"_

_He swats at the butterfly landing on his nose. Stella looks every bit the perfect image of innocence when he shoots a mild look of annoyance in her direction –but the humor in her eyes give her away. _

_Shaking his head, he offers a small, exasperated smirk in response._

"_Feeling better, I assume?" Mukuro asks dryly, and she lets out a soft laugh. A delicate bell-like sound that he finds himself liking more than he should, much to his chagrin, because he knows that she–_

"_Somewhat." The last butterfly lingering on her fingertip finally springs into the air, and they both watch it flutter away in a moment of companionable silence. "… I will not have others controlling my actions, Mukuro."_

_He raises an eyebrow, deducing that the seemingly errant comment is part of the reason why she has sought him today. Or maybe the main reason itself, even._

"_Of course I know that, Stella." Another heartbeat of silence, and then, dryly: "Otherwise, I'd be using _you_ as a vessel, and not my dear little Chrome."_

_The latter comment somehow startles another laugh out of her, another sweet chime of tinkling bells._

_Part of her whimsical mood must've caught onto him –a small step, and he was standing on top of the swing behind her, vaulting them forward and drinking in that laughter–_

_And for a moment, even though his body was still trapped in the watery depths of Vendicare and restless rumors of war stir on the horizon–_

_Everything is perfectly fine in the world._

**LXXXVI.**

Box animals are an interesting concept. Something about it feels oddly familiar to her, as if she had known of them a long, long time ago –but then, that was ridiculous, wasn't it?

(After all, box weapons had only been developed in this day and age; where in the world would she have heard of them prior to this?)

She reached out a hand towards the peacock glowing with Sun flames. The colorful bird ducked its head under her fingertips almost immediately, crooning softly.

"Ah! My sweet little birdie has always been fond of you, Stella."

She offered a small smile to Lussuria, who stood above her on the stairway.

"Everyone has a box animal?"

"Almost everyone." The Sun-user corrected, re-opening his box and letting the peacock return to its confines in a brilliant burst of bright yellow flames. "It takes a lot of flames to be able to open a box in the first place, and not everyone can use a box animal effectively. Us members of the upper tier all have our own box animals, but the poor dearies in the lower ranks still have a long way to go."

"I see." She stood up from her crouch, stretching. "What animal does Superbi have?"

"A shark." They share a brief moment of amusement over that together. "Bel has a mink, Levi has a sting ray, and Fran… well… you'll see, if he ever decides to use it."

"And Xanxus?"

Lussuria glances down at her, and –not for the first time– she very much wishes that he doesn't wear those sunglasses, just so she can read his _eyes. _Body language had always been harder for her to interpret in comparison to the eyes.

Still; there's definitely _something _in his tone when he counters her question with one of his own.

"Why do you ask about our dear Boss, Stella?"

She shrugs, gaze falling to the side.

"… Simple curiosity."

The man hummed lightly, and –with a tone of mischief–

"Now, what's the fun in me giving all the answers to you? Why don't you stick around and see for yourself?"

She gave him a dry little smile in response.

"Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do, Lussuria. They asked for me in Japan, didn't they? I'm grateful that the Varia has accepted me for so long, but I can't be staying here forever."

The flamboyant man gave her a wholly unashamed smile, and her eyes tracked the sad edge it carried –before the edges of his mouth twitched upwards and the flaw disappeared.

**LXXXVII.**

"_Irie-sama, what are your orders?"_

**LXXXVIII.**

"Something wrong?"

She appreciates the gesture. The Varia is currently in the midst of preparing for the raid, going over various strategies and battle plans all day long –and her brother somehow still finds the time to inquire about her wellbeing. Still _notices _when something is bothering her, and worries enough to confront her about it.

"… A little."

Superbi doesn't ask anything more, but sits down beside her instead on the outdoor bench. Long strands of silver hair blow into her face, sweeping around her –and she feels a sudden surge of protective affection as she leans over and gives him a hug, ignoring that half-hearted grumbling when he reaches out an arm and tucks her into his side.

(Sometimes, for a bizarre moment, she still can't quite get over the fact that he let his hair grow out so long.)

"I found a photograph in my room a while back, when I was in the middle of looking around to see if my future-self left behind anything of importance in that room." A small pause. She turns to face him, looking up into his eyes. It was now or never to ask the question, once she was Japan… "Tell me, Superbi… am I… in this world, did I… _was _I…"

It's been a while since she last stumbled over her words like this. Faust would be scandalized, but really –how does one go about asking a question like this?

"… Was I _married?"_

For a moment, he sits there silently, golden eyes fixed upon her own. There's a hint of surprise at her asking this question, followed by a chaotic maelstrom of something else in his eyes –resignation, acceptance, grudging consent, however reluctant–

And then those emotions shutter off completely when he closes his eyes and gives a sharp nod.

… It doesn't make her feel any better, because if it's _true, _if he confirmed it, then that means…

…

She lets out an explosive breath, feeling her head spin.

It's not a pleasant sensation, nor is it a pleasant revelation to come to terms with.

**LXXXIX.**

_There is a star-filled lake, and a girl who stands on top of the still waters._

_A ghost, a fragment, a memory._

… _But nonetheless _real. _And that made all the difference, didn't it?_

_Unlike the gray-eyed girl sitting in the boat –raven hair, gray eyes– Stella Squalo was real. Oh, maybe this Setsuko had been real once –a diminutive little child, the youngest of three, a timid girl. Two older brothers, and a mother and father who loved them all equally, unconditionally. A little girl who lived a peaceful, civilian life in the town called Namimori. A girl who went by the name of Nakamura Setsuko, for that was who she was._

_Nakamura Setsuko._

_And she knew very well that Setsuko was not Stella Squalo. Couldn't be. For Stella Squalo had been born with pinpoint clarity and perfect recall of memories stemming from another lifetime –while Setsuko had been born a plain, simple, normal girl; just as any infant should be, just as the natural order of laws dictated things to be. So while Nakamura Setsuko might have inhabited the same soul as Stella Squalo, they certainly were not the same person. And Stella had always harbored a fond spot for this girl who was-but-wasn't her._

_But somewhere along the lines of things, when she had been using the Mist to tether her mind to a rotting shell, while the rest of her being, her consciousness, flitted onwards into the void, it had resulted in–_

_A mistake._

_An anomaly._

_Something unnatural._

_And then Nakamura Setsuko had ceased to exist when something else took her place, as Stella Squalo re-joined as the missing piece of a broken soul, too soon and too late all at the same time. When the nightmares came and Marion's Voices sounded, causing an innocent child to be crushed under an overwhelming wave of spilled blood and unshed tears and the bitter, pyrrhic victory of satisfaction-regret–_

_Something else had been born. _

_Not quite Setsuko, for Setsuko had been a gentle child. A soft-spoken girl, who would've grown into a fine young woman and made a place for herself in this world with that paintbrush of hers. A girl who embraced peace and abhorred conflict. _

_So she knew that this _thing _wasn't Setsuko, and not quite Stella, either –for Stella knew herself, knew the cruelty she was capable of, the lengths she would go to in order to protect those dear to her, the price she would gladly pay for power. And she knew that this _thing_ had somehow grasped tendrils of Setsuko's kindness instead of Stella's ruthlessness as it had been born from the recesses of their mind as Setsuko withered away under the influx of Stella's memories._

_So._

… _Not quite Setsuko, but not quite Stella. What was it, then?_

"_I don't suppose you could tell me who I am?" The thing-in-Setsuko's-shape asked, image flickering and fading fast. _

_And then an answer came to her, blindingly obvious in its simplicity and falling from her lips as easily as breathing._

Fake.

**XC.**

It's time.

… Still. Of all the people sent to pick her up from the Varia's Headquarters to take her to Japan –she hadn't expected them to send _him, _even though she could certainly understand the rationale behind sending him now…

(They say hindsight is 20/20. Why hadn't she seen this coming?)

"… The hell are you doing here, _scum?"_

She doesn't think she's ever heard Xanxus sound so _cold _during the entire duration of her stay here. Even if he deliberately kept his distance from her, even if he took to avoiding her ever since that one time in the hallway, even if he was a man of few words and even _less _in her presence –there's still a part of her that cries for him, whenever she sees the hurt-anger-regret dancing in his flames.

She glanced up just in time to see the darkening of his face, the subtle way he shifted protectively in front of her–

"Why, I'm simply here to bring Stella to Japan with me." A pair of red-blue heterochromatic eyes glinted under the light, glittering dangerously as the tall man took another step towards them. Towards _her. _"You would not begrudge a man from taking care of his _wife_ now, would you?"

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

… So, anyone see the Mukuro thing coming? ;3 Heh, guess what the poll results were. xD I didn't allow two votes per person for no reason! And if you'll notice in Fran's POV last chapter –when he comments that letting Stella die would be a Bad Idea, the first person to come after his skin would be Squalo, but _the second person is Mukuro. _Xanxus ranks third on that list. Now you know why. ;)

_Q: Is it really Mukuro himself we're seeing here?_

A: Patience, young grasshopper. You'll find out in the next chapter.

… Aaaand, we've got another small scene in the mindscape, this time from "Stella's" POV instead of the one we usually see it from. Bear in mind, while some of the things she says are true, that doesn't necessarily mean that _everything_ she says is true –and she is going off of her own perceptions, which may or may not be true at all. ;3

Next chapter we should be getting into the beginning of the operation –you know, the one when Vongola launches their worldwide counterattack against the Millefiore. Tsuna&co. invade the Melone base in Japan while the Varia launch their raid on that castle in Italy. Anyone excited for that? :)

Also, since school is starting –updates might begin slowing down soon. Some snippets I have jotted down or pre-written already, but… well… hope you enjoyed these rapid summer updates while they lasted. xD I make no promises for the school year other than, 'I'll try my best.' We'll see how it goes. :D

**QUESTION: **Who do you presume was more instrumental in future-Stella's death? Byakuran or Torikabuto? Why? ;3

Please leave a note on what you think, and till next time~

-XxZuiliu


	10. XCI-C (Extra: L'amore non muore mai)

**XCI.**

"_Come with me, Stella."_

She had a sudden feeling that this conversation wasn't even about going to _Japan _anymore, ridiculous as it sounded. How had things gotten derailed so quickly?

Mukuro's hand grasped her own in a startling _gentle _movement –had they really…?– and she instinctively followed his movement, stepping after him towards the open gates. One step after another, closer and closer to those iron-wrought gates where they would leave. Where they would then ride to the airport, then make way to Namimori, Japan…

She doesn't know how to explain it.

She doesn't know how to explain why her feet suddenly refused to move.

She doesn't know how to explain why she looked back over her shoulder in that moment.

They're watching silently –Levi's eyes shift to the side when he sees her glancing back, and Lussuria attempts to smile as he gives another dainty wave, while Fran's face is as expressionless as always… Her brother has a bitter edge to his body language that he doesn't quite manage to hide from her in time, not entirely, and Xanxus–

_Such empty, empty eyes._

And her decision is made in a heartbeat.

… Or perhaps she has always known what her decision would be, and this is only the final push that allowed her to vocalize it, after finally realizing that it wasn't just _her, _wasn't her trying to be _selfish_, but rather…

"Mukuro?"

The aforementioned man looked down at her and–

She spoke.

"When they asked you to take me to Japan, it's not because they need me with them, right? It's simply because of what I carried with me when I came to this future –the Vongola Mist Ring. Since… Since the majority of the battle force will be concentrated on Italy, I think… I think it would be better for me to stay here rather than go to Japan. Can you take the Mist Ring with you when you go back, Mukuro?"

"_I'll be staying here."_

…

**XCII.**

Tsuna stepped into the hallway just as a sudden burst of indigo flames consumed Mukuro's body.

He blinked rapidly. Several times. Because when the Mist cleared, there was another person standing there –shorter, slender, and decidedly feminine despite a slightly similar appearance to Mukuro, including an eyepatch over her right eye where the blood red eye of Mukuro's would've been.

"Ciaossu, Chrome." Reborn didn't even bat an eye at the sudden change. Tsuna had almost tripped over his own two feet at the woman's presence replacing that of Mukuro's. "Where's Lady Stella?"

_Lady Stella?_

_Who's that?_

"… Italy." The blue-haired woman's voice was quiet and soft, but clearly audible. "Mukuro-sama spoke with her, and… she decided to stay there as part of the main battle force for this operation. There was a little disagreement, but…"

The woman shrugged, holding up her hand, and Tsuna's jaw dropped open when he saw the Vongola Mist Ring glittering on her finger there.

Reborn nodded slowly.

"I see."

_I don't!_

"Dame-Tsuna," Reborn easily ignored his student's inner crisis with ease. "This is Dokuro Chrome. She and Rokudo Mukuro will both be serving as your Mist Guardian for this upcoming battle."

"W-wait, but–"

_But what about Yuuto? What happened to Yuuto? Why is everyone avoiding his name in conversation? And why won't anyone answer any questions about him? Unless… unless, unless he's dea–_

A sharp kick to the head, courtesy of Reborn, snapped off his train of thought.

"Don't think too hard about it, Tsuna. You should be honored that Chrome and Mukuro have agreed to stand in as your Mist Guardian. Their illusionary prowess is top-class in this world, don't you know?"

**XCIII.**

For a moment, neither of them speaks.

Then, finally:

"Why?"

She smiles at the inquiry.

"You'll have to be a little more specific than that, Superbi."

The silver-haired man straightens, rolling his eyes a little at the blatantly obvious deflection to his question. But it wasn't an outright refusal to answer –and so he presses on.

"Why did you suddenly decide stay?" There's something a little unreadable in his gaze when he locks eyes with her again. "When I told you about it awhile back, you didn't seem to have any problems with leaving."

_You didn't seem to have any problems with leaving us behind again._

She shakes her head.

"It's not like that," she chooses her words slowly, carefully. Not wanting to leave the wrong impression like she had almost done. "I simply thought… I simply thought that if I left, it would be less of a burden on you. On all of you. I'm not blind, Superbi, I know that… my presence here has stirred up various memories, perhaps painful ones. So that itself was more than enough reason for me to leave as soon as possible, so that I wouldn't affect any of you even more, not when we have this battle at hand."

"Why change your mind, then?"

The swordsman takes note of how his sister's eyes flicker towards the hallway at the top of the left-hand staircase for a quicksilver moment, the one that leads to his Boss's room.

"Now… I think that there is reason for me to stay."

**XCIV.**

"_I'll be staying here."_

_The tall illusionist's eyes flashed at the girl's calm declaration._

"_Stella, that's not–"_

"_Please, Mukuro." Two words, and he was rendered mute. Silently, he observed how her eyes were gray –and really, how long had it been since he has last seen hazel eyes? Much too long, in his opinion. "I will stay. You and Chrome will be more than enough support for Tsuna in the raid on the Melone base in Japan. I will stay here with the Varia in Italy, where I can be of most assistance in this entire operation."_

…

_There are words lingering at the tip of his tongue, words which are entirely uncharacteristic of him._

_No._

_Don't stay._

_I don't want you to stay _here. _Not with the Varia, not with _him, _not in the middle of this goddamned war's heavy crossfire, not where you can _die _again and I'll be unable to do anything._

_(Never realizing how much you meant until I was left staring at that broken body–)_

"_Is this really want you want?"_

_That… hadn't been what he meant to say._

_But._

_Some._

_Words._

_Can't._

_Be._

_Just._

_Taken._

_Back._

(… _And he would know all about that, wouldn't he?)_

"_Yes." There was a knowing look in her eyes as her tiny fingers slowly forced his own to curl over the Mist Ring in his hands. The accursed Vongola Mist Ring. "I will be most useful here, Mukuro."_

…

"_Kufufu," a small laugh at his own helplessness in front of her. So young, so much weaker than he remembered her to be in this world. So much weaker than the woman who had swept into Vendicare and dealt with the Vindice for his release, the prison guards who had come for him once again upon her death, upon the termination of their deal. She was _weak, _standing here right now –how easy would it be to just ignore her protests and take her along with him despite her wishes?_

_('I will not have others controlling my actions, Mukuro.')_

… _And, yet he was still so powerless to refuse her. "If you say so, Stella dear. Are you sure you do not wish for me to stay in your place here, then?"_

_A last attempt._

_She replies with a small smile of her own._

"_You're not at full strength right now, Mukuro. I may be weaker than my future self at the moment, but at least my presence here is not an illusion."_

…

_He is helpless in front of her. _

_(He still remembers standing over her crumpled body all those years ago, the day they first met, failing to possess her body, to break her mind –and this is a very different sort of helplessness than being held at someone else's mercy, a sensation he hasn't felt in a long, long time.)_

_Anger. Shame. Guilt._

_He exhales lowly, shaking his head as a small smirk curls over his lips, reaching into his pocket with his other hand, and brings out an indigo box._

"_This is yours," he drops it in her hands. "I meant to give it to you… earlier."_

_(Before you died.)_

_He lets the smirk on his lips widen, leaning down to brush his lips against her ear. Taking pleasure in how the rest of the Varia stiffens in rage at the audacious move–_

_(The fool had pushed her away and now she is HIS, and Mukuro freely admits that he is a selfish person–)_

"_I will find you when this is over, Stella."_

_A promise._

**XCV.**

"Heh, so the lauded Varia are attacking, are they? Idiots, the lot of them. I'll have all their heads hanging on pikes before tomorrow's sunrise."

The white-robed man chuckles darkly, reclining on his throne. For his castle –the Millefiore base of operations in Italy– is arguably one of the most well-fortified structures in existence. There are A-rank soldiers in his personal guard, B-rank soldiers guarding the walls, while C-rank soldiers constantly prowl the surrounding forestry of his ancestral lands. Even without taking into consideration the quality of his soldiers, the weaponry that Byakuran-sama has gifted his men with is equipment second only to the ones given to Irie-sama's men.

"Sir! I've brought you the real-time map, just as you requested!"

He doesn't bother turning around in his chair when one of his subordinates run into his room, lazily nodding and beckoning the young man forward with a finger while he sips at his wine–

_Thud._

Eh? What's that sound?

He cracks open an eye just in time to see one of his A-rank guards crumple to the ground, but when he sucks in a lungful of air to scream, he feels a pair of cold, cold hands wrapping around his neck and–

_Snap._

…

…

…

The young man in white watches impassively as his superior is strangled to death by his own shadow. Then his appearance _ripples, _Mist flames rolling off his body_ –_and his height shrinks, blond hair sliding into black, blue eyes morphing into gray–

…

A young girl steps forward and gently takes down the Millefiore flag hanging on the walls, replacing it with one emblazoned with the Varia's insignia instead.

**XCVI.**

Chrome tightens her grip on the trident in her hands.

"U-um, what–"

"Please head on without me, Boss." She slams the end of her weapon on the ground, and pillars of hellish fire burst into existence, engulfing the figure of the man standing at the end of the walkway. And while she knows it's not enough to get rid of someone of his caliber, she also knows that they can't afford to be held up here any longer. "Hurry!"

"_None of you will be leaving."_

Cloud flames.

The spikes jutting from the ground multiply at an exponential rate, nearly skewering all of them if not for a bit of fancy footwork and Gokudera's Sistema CAI shields flashing in a burst of red-tinged flames. It's not good, not good –they're all tired and injured from previous battles; it's a stroke of complete _luck _that they've even managed to meet up here again. Somewhere along the way, Hibari had gotten switched with his younger self, too–

Their goal is Irie Shouichi, _so close–_

And yet so far away.

…

How could anyone have predicted _Nakamura Sousei's_ appearance here?

_Nakamura Sousei._

_The Millefiore Cloud, who wanders as he pleases while fulfilling Byakuran's orders, sowing nothing but destruction in his wake._

"It'll be troublesome if you manage to get to Shouichi while he's in that room, so I'll have to stop you here." Sousei remarked calmly, sedately. As if he had all the time in the world. "Lucky for me that you took a wrong turn just now, huh? You guys really should've gone straight down that corridor earlier when you still had the chance."

After the base had begun _moving _–none of them had known where to be heading anymore.

But, judging by his words…?

…

The man raised his hand, Mare Cloud Ring glowing brightly with flames, and Chrome readied herself for another grueling battle, praying that she would buy enough time for Tsuna and the others to find their way to Irie Shouichi.

**XCVII.**

The little girl's gray eyes flick towards Xanxus briefly, before turning back to glance over the regal blond seated on a flying chair, his butler floating to the side.

It's a bit of a ridiculous sight, really.

"Kill them, Olgert." The arrogant Bel-lookalike commanded, and the butler next to him immediately obeyed. She watched silently as he brought out a blue box, a ring on his finger igniting with Rain flames–

… Elephants again?

How very… crude.

She continues swinging her legs lackadaisically from her seat on the table while Bester freezes the Rain animal in its tracks. Again. If the same attack from earlier hadn't managed to deal any damage to them, what made the duo think that it would work a second time?

"What in the world…? _Impossible!"_

See?

They're weak.

She knows, with a single dismissive glance at them, that these two are weak. Knowing perfectly well that her own skills are a far cry from the ones her future self had possessed, and still they are weak in her eyes. And Xanxus knows this, too, perhaps just as well as she does, if not even better –after all, he hasn't even bothered standing up, either, and she feels no need to slide off the small table to greet their new enemy.

When Bester's form suddenly coalesces into flames again, she looks up to see Xanxus recalling the Sky lion into his box, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest.

"If you want to prolong your life, then call that lowlife scum Byakuran here."

She notices the way the tapping pattern of the Bel-lookalike's fingers has changed when he begins talking, spouting off nonsensical rabble about the _grace _of 'Byakuran-sama,' and how–

Her eyes narrow.

_Storm flames._

She counters them the exact moment she feels those destructive flames flying over her, cutting into her skin, her own Mist flames automatically curling around her body and circling back to shield Xanxus, too. The three C-class Mist Rings on her hand are set alight simultaneously as she reaches for the box that Mukuro gave her–

And a small gasp leaves her lips when a rough hand grabs her own, stopping her from taking any further actions.

"… Xanxus?"

Surprise colors her tone when she looks back, only to see his eyes flicker red for a moment as he scowls at the thin ribbon of red trailing its way down her arm. When Xanxus looks up at her again–

…

…

…

Wrath flames leap high into the night sky.

**XCVIII.**

"Ahhh…"

Shouichi crumpled to the ground in a heap, letting out a long sigh as he ran his eyes over the empty expanse of what had once been the Melone base again. "… I'm so glad this is over with now."

"Not quite over yet," Sousei corrected, a little ways off to the side. Spanner nodded in agreement. "But… they've cleared the first stage. That's something to be glad for, isn't it?"

Shouichi nodded in agreement.

"We'll have to start making arrangements for Choice now, though." The young man ran a hand through his hair tiredly. "Do you know when Stella will be coming?"

The Styrofoam cup in Sousei's hand was crumpled in an instant.

"… She's not coming."

"Eh?" Shouichi blinked, startled –before flailing wildly with his arms, accidently knocking over a stack of papers in the process. Spanner barely managed to salvage them in time before they flew into the empty abyss before them. "No, I mean for Choice!"

"_She's not coming." _Sousei took in a deep breath, inhaling and trying to calm himself before he snapped at his best friend. "… She even sent the Mist Ring along with Chrome. She's not going to come here, Shouichi."

"Chrome isn't exactly in any condition to be battling again anytime soon, especially with having had to face you so soon after fighting Glo Xinia." the redhead's eyes furrowed in concern. "Stella is the only one we can rely on as a Mist candidate for this."

"You think I don't know that?"

Shouichi sighed.

(It was at times like these that he was glad his mother and sister remained on the sidelines of mafia matters –he couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of convoluted relationship these three siblings had with each other. Or rather, four, if you wanted to extend the definition a little.)

"I'll tag on a note to Dino's message to the Varia." He finally said, turning back to the laptop on his legs. "Hopefully, she'll be coming over this time once we explain our situation here."

Then, with a brief hesitation:

"Sousei, remember –she's only ten. I don't know exactly when she changed to _Stella, _but… you miss Setsu, don't you?"

…

The lack of words to that question was a telling response in and of itself.

**XCIX.**

It's hard.

It's hard to put a finger on what lies between them, because there's definitely _something _there; that much she can tell. She can't quite put a name to it… and she rather doubts that Xanxus can label it, either.

… If he could, well, maybe he would actually be _talking _to her instead of just glowering silently there.

(Lussuria had squealed excitedly when he first found them in the remains of the destroyed rooftop; Xanxus still seated on the former Millefiore commander's chair while she blinked owlishly from her spot on the table next to him. Bester had been curled protectively around her, yawning and tucking its paws under its chin contentedly. The liger was _warm –_and when she had ran her fingers through its fur, it was almost as if she could feel tendrils of flames licking softly at her hands–)

"Xanxus, Superbi already told you about the encrypted message from Dino, right?" His eyes cracked open a sliver to regard her, and she stood up from her seat, crossing the room on silent footsteps so she stood before him. "… They need an illusionist."

"And?"

A raspy voice. No, not _raspy _–more of a low rumble in his throat.

"I'll be going," His gaze was still trained on her unblinkingly –and she briefly wondered, what… what did he see, when he looked at her? Did he see _Stella, _or did he see _her?_ "I know I said I'd stay, but… Chrome won't be able to fight anymore now, and they really do need an illusionist for this Choice battle coming up. Also…"

_I only stayed because I thought… maybe… because…_

She smiled.

"… Never mind. I guess I'm going to just start rambling if I talk anymore. It… It's been a pleasure, Xanxus. I'll be leaving with Superbi tonight."

…

She doesn't expect it, when he suddenly stands up, towering over her body.

"_No."_

She blinked in surprise.

_No?_

_No as in… no, don't leave…?_

He abruptly looks away, and her words die on her tongue.

_Why won't you look me in the eyes anymore, Xanxus?_

She isn't sure of what this is –this _thing _between them, this thing that she is hesitant to put a name to.

(Her Mist flames –in that battle earlier, when shielding them from the onslaught of those invisible Storm flames– her flames had reacted far faster in protecting Xanxus than herself. As if Xanxus had been her first priority, even though she knew full well that Xanxus was perfectly capable of protecting himself. And Xanxus, upon seeing the blood on her skin… suffice to say, no one would ever be finding any remains of the fake-Storm Funeral Wreath and his loyal subordinate.)

She isn't blind.

She is aware of some sort of argument-disagreement that had gone on between her future self and Xanxus, and while she isn't sure of what that disagreement might entail –she knows that she is not the same person as her future self.

_She is not Stella._

… And Xanxus had harbored _something _for Stella, didn't he? Something that hadn't been entirely unrequited, maybe a little reciprocated had it been truly possible, but…

…

Was this why, then?

When Mukuro had come for her –why Xanxus's eyes had become so _empty _at seeing the prospect of her leaving, at _Stella _leaving… was this why?

Perhaps, then…

Maybe, if…

… Was _this_ why?

Was this why he couldn't let her go?

…

…

…

_Sorry._

_But._

_I'm._

_Not._

_Stella._

She silently reached upwards with small, childish hands to cup his face. The long, jagged scars there stretched roughly under her fingertips, and she steadfastly ignored the urge to trace them. Instead, she simply tugged lightly at the tall man, insistently lowering him to her height.

Leaning towards him, feeling him stiffen–

The feathers arranged around his collar tickling her cheek–

Fingers lacing around the back of his neck, pressing closer –

Looking into his eyes, silently peering into red-autumn-flickering embers–

Softly breathing against his lips in a quiet, steady, sad little sort of hopeless whisper–

"_Let me go, Xanxus."_

…

**C.**

The little hazel-eyed girl continued tiptoeing upwards and gently pressed a chaste kiss to the man as he crumpled to the ground, soporific Mist flames flickering around them and casting their shadows dancing against the walls together in a drunken indigo haze.

* * *

_Extra._

* * *

**Bonus: Interlude –**_**L'amore non muore mai.**_

The marble halls were cold and quiet.

It had been a long time since he last set foot in the Squalo Manor –just as it had been a long time since she last set foot in the Varia Headquarters. He had waited long enough for her to come around; _they _had waited long enough to stop dancing around the issue.

_You hold no power over me._

… It was long enough.

(If he was willing to step onto _her _grounds, _her _territory –goddamnit, it was the only concession he would _ever _make and if she didn't–)

"VOI, WHO THE HELL–… Boss?_"_

His gaze flicked over the shark dismissively as he continued on his path–

"_Boss!"_

He didn't stop.

Clearly, Squalo hadn't expected him to, either.

The swordsman whirled into his path, blocking him with a vehement scowl on his face. But under that layer of vehemence was a strange tendril of tension, of apprehension –and it was only the latter that gave Xanxus pause, that had him slowing his steps ever so slightly as he gave his second-in-command a _look._

"What is it, trash?"

A brief pause.

"You're here to see Stella, aren't you?"

He leveled a flat glare on the shark, who let out an explosive exhale and shifted his gaze to the side –which only heightened the feeling of _wrongness_.

"Boss, right now… might not be the best of times." It looked like it seriously pained Squalo to say so, but the fact that he was here, _standing in his way and denying him when he was–_

And then he heard it.

"_Oya, what is it with all these butterflies?"_

Squalo froze as Xanxus suddenly shoved past him and took the last few steps it took to reach the drawing room. But instead of slamming open the door and barging inside as he had done so many times in the past, Xanxus's hand had stilled upon resting on the doorknob.

"_Why not butterflies? Unless… maybe you'd like to see some fluffy yellow birds, yes?"_

"… _Kufufu. Do so and I will teach you the meaning of regret."_

"_Don't you teach that to Fran on a daily basis, Mukuro?"_

A few tendrils of indigo flames escaped the bottom edges of the doorframe. Neither of the two men paid it any attention as the conversation between the two occupants of the room continued.

"… _Really, why are you actually here? I've held up my end of the deal –you're no longer chained in the water prisons of Vendicare anymore. So what makes… you…?"_

Silence.

The kind that came from disbelief. Shock. As if what was currently happening _couldn't _be real; absolutely _wasn't possible–_

"_There."_

"_Mukuro! That–" _Stella's voice, normally so placid and calm and reserved, held a blatant edge of surprise at something that had completely blindsided her. Except, Stella made a _point _to know _everything, _didn't she? _"You can't just– why did you– that's not–"_

"_Kufufu. How very eloquent, Stella."_

The way the Mist illusionist said her name had Xanxus's blood _boiling, _and just as he was about to turn the doorknob, consequences be damned–

An exasperated sigh.

"_You don't ask a woman to marry you by just forcing a ring on her finger!"_

And Xanxus stilled.

"… _At this point, I feel the need to point out how you haven't taken the ring off yet. May I assume that it's going to be staying there, then?"_

"_Mukuro…"_

…

He stopped listening.

The shark had followed him –when had his feet decided to take him down the hallway, retracing the path he'd used to come here for _her? _When had he finally jerked away from that door, spinning on his heel and –_when had the shark grabbed his arm, what the hell was he talking about–_

"-ss! _Boss! _Fuck, we tried! _We tried! _And _neither _of you absolute _idiots _would even stop to _consider_–"

Lussuria. The Sun-user had tried thousands of methods to coax Xanxus into seeing Stella and vice versa. _He _was the reason why Xanxus was standing here now, but for the longest time, both had been too strong-willed –or was it too foolish?– to hear his words.

Squalo. How many times had the shitty shark tried to force them into a room together? Subtlety was definitely not his strong point, but he'd _tried. _And Levi, foolish enough as the idiot was, had been pulled along with their schemes –hell, even Bel and Fran had their sticky little fingerprints scattered all over these ridiculous, _ridiculous _so-called _plans _of theirs that involved–

"Shit. _Shit, _Boss, you should've _listened _when we kept telling you to–"

And Xanxus finally snapped.

His hand shot out, curling around the swordsman's throat and slamming him against the wall in a move the swordsman hadn't seen coming –and as Squalo cursed, fighting back and struggling even though they both knew _it was_ _useless–_

"_Don't you fucking _dare _tell me to listen to any of you," _he snarled, and dropped the assassin.

Then he turned and left, invisible chains weighing down on his mind and screaming a hundred thousand different things at him to turn back, to _turn back _because goddamnit, _it wasn't too late just yet_–

Except it was.

It _was._

Too.

Fucking.

_Late._

…

_You hold no power over me._

…

Xanxus almost wanted to just throw his head back and _laugh._

_Too late, too late; you were too late before and always will be–_

_Wasn't you, not you, never you–_

_Can't be, she doesn't, I won't–_

We _would never–_

_But maybe–_

_Given time–_

_If we had just–_

_If–_

_If…_

…

…

…

Even through the chaotic maelstrom of thoughts, through the lead-like sensation of moving his limbs through quicksand, it was impossible to ignore the crushing weight of that delicate ring carefully tucked away inside his pocket.

* * *

.

...

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Just a side note on the title for this extra, which may –or may not, who knows– deepen your understanding of the interlude piece a little: "L'amore non muore mai" is (supposedly) an Italian translation of the phrase, "Love never dies." :3

… I feel so evil now. xD

'Kay, anyways. Enough of the sappy relationship stuff. I wonder how many people still ship Xanxus/Stella? Lots of people seem to be happy with the Mukuro/Stella thing I threw in… :D

So, next chapter, Setsu/Stella heads to Japan next chapter with Squalo for training and for Choice. Dunno if we'll actually get into the Choice battles… guess we'll just have to see how it goes. I'm rather looking forward to that, really. ;3 Um. She'll be taking over for the role of Vongola Mist Guardian there –poor Tsuna, practically switching Mist Guardians for every conflict. xD There _will_ be a permanent Vongola Mist Guardian at the end of this entire mess, trust me. Even if it doesn't look like that will be happening any time soon.

… And yes, she used her Mist flames to make Xanxus fall unconscious, since he was against her going to Japan, period. He hadn't exactly been expecting to get hit with a wave of Mist flames from her, right?

Since the internet here has been acting weird for the last few days, most of this chapter was written without reference to the manga. So if something seems off… just think of it as AU again. I'm pretty sure I got most of it right, I think? xD

… Say, how many people saw the fake Cloud Funeral Wreath thing with Sousei coming? :3 I think I dropped a lot of hints before that Sousei is pretty good friends with Shouichi…? ;)

100 drabbles exactly. And where _Polaris _was just about finished at this point, we're still going through with the Future arc... yup, _Canopus _is definitely going to end up being longer. xD

**QUESTION: **So, judging by what you've read so far, which one would you prefer to see more of –omakes or interludes?

Till next time~

-XxZuiliu


	11. CI-CX

**CI.**

"_Setsu!"_

Ah.

(… How long has it been since she's been called by that name?)

"Hi, Tsuna." She smiles –and the expression on her face falters as she is immediately engulfed in a hug. It's a very different sort of hug than the one she had first received from Superbi, which had been tinted all desperation and grief and _pain– _

"_Ohmygodwhyareyouhere?" _It's half numb shock and half dawning horror that she hears in Tsuna's voice when he draws back to look at her, biting his lip in concern. "Setsu, are you still okay?"

She only manages a small nod before the brunet abruptly rounds on his tutor.

"Reborn, why in the world is Setsu here, too?!"

… It's not exactly Reborn's fault that she's here, but she doesn't fault him for turning to the hitman for an explanation. After all, Reborn certainly does seem to appear to be an omniscient being at times, doesn't he?

"What are you talking about?" The pseudo-infant responds guilelessly, not even batting an eye at his student's scandalized tone. "That's Lady Stella there."

Tsuna stiffens –recognition of the name, perhaps?

"_What?!"_

"It's a bit of a long story," she takes initiative at this point and interrupts, cutting into the conversation before it can continue any longer. While Tsuna seems to be aware of Lady Stella, it doesn't appear as if he knows the connection between Stella Squalo and Nakamura Setsuko just yet. She isn't sure if she wants him to know–doesn't know if she wants all of them to know, really.

(There is a certain sort of guilty relief from being free of having to constantly hold herself up to the standards that everyone expected of Stella Squalo. Then again, it wasn't as if this was something that could be kept a secret for long –and if she was to fight with them, then wouldn't they find out anyways?)

Well.

"… I'll explain when there's time." She smiles, "For now, I'm just Setsu."

…

…

…

_Please don't call me Stella._

… _I'm not sure if I can take it anymore._

…

**CII.**

_There is a lake that glows with a thousand pinpricks of starlight pulsating brightly under the mirror-like surface, where the quiet whispers of a million voices shrouded within the Mist coil together, murmuring softly._

_There is a boat, gently rocking from side to side as a gray-eyed girl steps into it._

_And. _

_There is also another girl present, silver-haired and hazel-eyed, who stands on top of the waters._

_Watching._

_Observing._

_Waiting._

_Waiting for what, she wonders?_

For you.

_She blinks in surprise, because Stella has never taken initiative and spoken to her before –never spoke anything to her, period–_

_The silver-haired girl steps forward, towards the boat, and she is hit with a sudden sense of foreboding danger, for some inexplicable reason. But… but why would Stella…?_

I'll always be waiting here.

_A small, cold smile tilts over the hazel-eyed girl's lips as she leans down, pale-white face hovering over the gray-eyed girl as the waves from the lake rise up around them._

"_What do you mean?" She gasps softly, trying not to show how unnerved she is by all this. _

_(It doesn't work; this is _Stella._)_

_The silver-haired girl cocks her head, still smiling._

You don't belong, don't you know? You're an irregularity in this world. Just like I was, but perhaps even more so.

_What?_

_What is she talking about? An 'irregularity?' And what had incited her to suddenly speak, anyways, when she had always remained so silent before? Come to think of it… when had she gained solid shape and form, instead of simply remaining as a shadow obscured in the Mist?_

It's because you're weak.

_The older girl reaches down with a single bone-thin hand, fingers curling under the younger one's chin, forcing their eyes to meet. The hazel eyes are cold, cold, _cold.

_She shivers involuntarily, and the predatory smile on Stella's face widens another touch._

But that's okay.

_And then the silver-haired girl is gone, the waters of the lake crashing down in giant tidal waves. The hazel-eyed girl instinctively grasps onto the edges of her small boat as she is rocked violently in the sudden storm, the world turning upside down around her –and when had the wood under her fingertips began to rot and wither away?_

_She falls into the restless waters, gasping for breath–_

_Stella turns her back on the abnormality._

All I have to do… is wait for you to die. And I won't even have to lift a single finger.

_The silver-haired girl walked away, not looking back even once as she drowned under the onslaught of the crashing waves._

**CIII.**

Setsu bolts up from her bed in the middle of the night, panic in her throat and trepidation in her heart, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the deadline until the Choice battle looming over their heads like a guillotine.

(She knows it's not a nightmare, which makes it all the more terrifying.)

**CIV.**

"'On strike?'"

She blinks, parroting the older girls' words. Kyoko and Haru nod enthusiastically in front of her.

"It's not fair that they're keeping us in the dark about this!" Their voices are indignant with righteous anger. "I mean, we're just as much a part of this as they are, aren't we? Just because we're girls –just because we can't fight like them– doesn't mean that it's okay for them to not tell us anything! Don't you agree with us, Setsu?"

She finally sets down the book in her hands.

"… Is that really what you think?"

"Eh?"

"Is that really what you think?" She repeats, her voice a little stronger this time. The older girls look surprised. "That they're keeping you in the dark about this situation for no good reason?"

"… But even if they have a good reason, that doesn't mean they can just–"

"Too much knowledge isn't always a good thing," there's a bitter edge to her smile, one that she quickly erases from her countenance before either of the girls can catch onto it. "There's a reason why ignorance is bliss."

Kyoko frowned, and Haru huffed, putting her hands on her hips.

"You're on their side, aren't you?" Angry, accusing tone. "That's it, no dinner for you tonight, either!"

She doesn't bother even batting an eye at that. Food is the least of her worries right now, to be honest.

"It doesn't matter what side I'm on," she sighs. "What I'm trying to really get at is this: Maybe it's wrong of them to decide to withhold information from you simply because they want to protect you, but it's also wrong of you to get angry at them like this. Right now is a critical time for all of us –we need to be able to _stay together, _and all your actions are doing is driving divisions between us. How in the world do you think they'll be able to concentrate on their training when they know you're upset with them?"

"Well…" Haru bit her lip, "If they would just _tell _us what's going on, then we wouldn't have to resort to this!"

"Then just go and ask them." She refrains from rolling her eyes, "They know you mean business now, don't they? Find them, sit down, and talk things out. They're not completely unreasonable. You _do _have a right to know what's going on –besides, they can't keep hiding everything forever, and I'd rather you find out now than get a very nasty surprise in the imminent future."

"Eh?"

"… Just go find them. This is their conversation to hold, not mine."

**CV.**

Sousei is… different.

There's a tired, hard edge to him now. Hardened by war, no doubt. The glasses perched over the bridge of his nose are different from the ones she remembers him wearing –but then again; ten years. She would be surprised if his glasses _hadn't _changed, really.

She smiles and gives him a gentle hug.

"I've missed you, onii-chan."

It's true. Amidst all this blood and battle and war, there is a part of her that longs for family and comfort and safety; something that Sousei had and has always been for her.

(She doesn't miss the way his body stiffens from surprise at the seemingly-unexpected gesture of affection, but chooses to feign ignorance to it.)

"St–… Se…Setsu…?"

(There is an upward tilt in the last syllable, a slight tinge of an emotion eerily similar to hope–)

She looks up into his eyes.

"Who else would it be?"

It's unexpected, when he abruptly drops to his knees in front of her and envelops her in a desperate hug, nearly knocking her over.

(She also tactfully refrains from saying anything about it, too, but there's also a feeling of _wrongness _creeping up her spine at Sousei's actions.)

(It's… unsettling.)

…

**CVI.**

When the day of the Choice match dawns bright and clear, when all of them are standing together and sending their flames into that strange machine floating in the sky –she realizes something strange in a sudden moment of clarity, an epiphany.

She realizes that she actually _belongs._

That while Stella would sigh and shake her head at the naïve optimism that Tsuna and the others show –she finds herself swept up in the current of their emotions, that she _believes. _That she genuinely believes that they will triumph, and emerge from this battle victorious.

_Byakuran is not an easy enemy to defeat, foolish child._

And then they arrive on the field.

Tall buildings. Skyscrapers.

An empty city.

"Hello, Vongola." She knows that she has never seen Byakuran before. So… what was this sensation of déjà vu that had washed over her upon catching sight of the smiling, white-haired man? Why did it seem as if his eyes had lingered on her before cutting over to Tsuna? "Shall we begin, then?"

She watches silently as the two leaders of their respective groups step forth, placing their hands on the strange-looking roulette, and–

"_Choice."_

–it begins to spin, dozens of tiny numbers whirling back and forth in a flurry, before finally coming to a halt.

"Hm… you've got a good hand there, Tsuna." Byakuran grins cheerfully, "A Sky, Rain, Storm, Mist, and an Unaffiliated, as opposed to my Cloud, Sun, and two Mists… well. Let's get this show started now, shall we?"

**CVII.**

She had held her suspicions before, but to have them confirmed like this was… vexing.

"Tsuna, _I can fight."_

"_Please, _Setsu. Just… stay here with Shouichi, alright?" Tsuna ran a harried hand through his hair, "With Lambo during the Ring battles we didn't have a choice, but–"

She held up the Vongola Mist Ring in her hand, silencing the boy with a _look_.

"I am not Lambo." Her words were delivered in a flat tone. With the Varia, it hadn't been hard to convince them to let her fight –on some level, it was even _expected _of her to fight. But that had been because they saw her as Stella, while in the eyes of Tsuna and the others, she was merely Setsuko. A child who had to be protected.

She sighs and opens her mouth again.

"Why won't you let me help?"

The battlefield had no room for children, but she was not a child.

(If anything, _they _would be the children in this case, not that any of them would know of it.)

Tsuna grimaced.

"Setsu, we're not… it's just…"

"Think of it this way, Setsu." Shouichi interjected from the side, and both of them turn to fae him"While Tsuna and Yamamoto go after Daisy and Gokudera stands guard, they're all going to be outside, right? If you stay in here, you'll be the closest to me should anything happen –that means you'll be our last line of defense. That's an important job, isn't it?"

She throws him a dark look, too, but doesn't protest the decision any further. It's obvious at this point that the boys aren't going to allow her to go out and fight with them, and Shouichi's point does have merit. There's no sense in arguing and simply wasting what little time was left of the three minutes to plan their strategy.

She shakes her head.

That obstinacy… if nothing else, at least she certainly understands Kyoko's and Haru's feelings a little better now.

**CVIII.**

When the battle begins, Tsuna is the first to encounter his opponent.

Torikabuto.

The Mist Funeral Wreath. An illusionist. A _monster._

For what other word can be used to describe the man? Upon being bodily thrown into a building, his body _splattered _–and all that was left was that floating head in a ghoulish mask, blood-coated bones of his vertebrae trailing behind him like some demented tail as the remains of his body twisted and writhed and morphed into a million sea snakes–

Torikabuto is a monster, of that Tsuna has no doubt.

Natsu's Cambio Forma in Mantle form is what saves him, the defensive properties of the long cape proving to be the perfect defense against the vicious onslaught of deadly, Lightning-imbued snakes.

His eyes flashed.

"I won't hold back against a monster."

The surge of his Sky flames incinerates the demon mercilessly, but Tsuna remains on guard. Because ever since the battle first started, the alarm bells in his intuition had gone off –whispering that there was something wrong wrong _wrong _about the monster in front of him–

_"… A monster, am I?"_

It's different.

Torikabuto's voice is different –oh so very _different _from the distorted warble that he had first spoken with, but… this new voice, his real voice, is a familiar-unfamiliar sort of baritone that immediately set his Hyper Intuition all but _screaming–_

The remains of the sea snakes gathered together, compressing and undulating until it rippled –and Torikabuto was standing on the ground, flourishing the black cape draped around his body as he looked up.

A gruesome, demonic mask twisted into a permanent scowl.

_"Your words truly wound me, Sawada Tsunayoshi."_ Torikabuto continues, and he reaches up with a single hand –long, elegant fingers– to gently grasp at the edge of his mask.

"_What makes you think I am a monster, Vongola Decimo?"_

**CIX.**

The feeling she receives when she sees Torikabuto is very similar to the déjà vu when seeing Byakuran, except… not.

_Hatred betrayal anger pain regret–_

"Shouichi, what do you know about Torikabuto?"

The redhead glances down at her from where he is busy directing the flame decoys.

"Torikabuto… well, obviously, he's Byakuran's Mist Guardian." Shouichi blinks, before flushing, "Sorry, I don't really know much about him –heck, I didn't even know these Funeral Wreathe _existed–"_

Shouchi broke off into a curse when another of the decoys was destroyed, before stiffening and glancing warily at her.

"Er, you didn't hear anything just now, okay? Sousei is very scary with those Cloud flames of his."

She offered him a small smile.

"Okay."

… Why was she so fixated on Torikabuto? That mask –had she encountered it somewhere? Such an evil mask, a mark of possession, of an illusionist losing their body and–

She blinked.

… Where had that thought come from?

"_What makes you think I am a monster, Vongola Decimo?"_

Her attention caught by the monitor, she watched closely as Torikabuto reached up a hand, taking off his mask –there was the image of a man's face in her mind, someone who was _traitor, _and if this Torikabuto really was a fragment from Stella's life, then the man behind the mask would likely be Aco–

Shouichi let out a startled shout only a mere millisecond before she did, abruptly standing up and sending wires clattering to the ground.

She turned, spinning on her heel and ran out of the base without a second thought.

_How?_

_How can this be happening?_

_How is_ _this possible?_

**CX.**

Tsuna watches uneasily, with a sort of muted horror pressing in on his throat as the monster reaches up and removes the ghoulish mask from his face–

"Ah, that feels much, much better."

Tsuna very nearly dropped to the ground in shock. Because there was _no way _this was happening, this _couldn't _be possible –it explained so many of the questions he'd had upon arriving in this disastrous future, while raising even more questions than the answers it gave–

"Hm? You look a little shocked there. Feeling alright?"

_How is this possible?!_

"… Heh, still think I'm a monster?"

He swallowed hard, mouth dry and mind numb as he tried to process what he was seeing in front of him.

_No._

_This can't be._

_This can't be happening._

_It has to be fake._

_Except._

_It is._

Real.

… _Oh gods, what is Setsu going to think?!_

The ten-years-older version of Yuuto smiled, idly spinning the demonic mask in one hand while raising the other and offering him a two-fingered salute, a cold smile dancing over his lips.

"Long time no see, Tsuna."

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

_1. "Eww, why did you just up and replace Yuuto with Setsu after going to the trouble of making him the Mist Guardian in the first place? It's like you just took him completely out of the picture!"_

… Truly, I am touched by this faith.

Honestly, is it that hard to believe I might have actually had a _reason _for giving Yuuto a convenient, conspicuous disappearance? I haven't directly addressed any questions on Yuuto's involvement (or recent lack thereof lately) in the story because I wanted to save it for this moment.

Give me a little credit here; why in the world would I spend all that time actually building up a character, only to just toss him to the side with no apparent explanation whatsoever?

_2. "WTF is with this triangle-pairing thing going on, it sucks! Take it out! You're ruining the story!"_

Don't like?

Then don't read.

Is it really necessary for me to add in a 'my story, my rules' reminder at this point? Everyone has their own preferences, and there's nothing I can do about that. There's nothing I can write that will satisfy all of my readers. But let me state it right here, right now –_I don't take kindly to people heckling after me and ordering me how to write my own story._

You don't like the pairing? Fine.

You don't like the story anymore? Okay.

You want me to write my story in a way that caters to your own whims, while insulting me in practically every other sentence?

Now we've got a problem.

I'm perfectly fine with people pointing out grammar mistakes and OOC-ness and such. In fact, I appreciate it when they do. My English isn't perfect; far from it, really –and I'm genuinely grateful when people take the time to help me out and make improvements to the story.

_This is not helping._

I like to think I've been fairly nice in my review responses and ANs so far, but I will say it plainly here and as bluntly as possible: _Stop pushing your luck with me_. I am _not_ going to put up with this crap being thrown my way anymore.

You guys know who you are.

* * *

Author's Notes:

To my other readers, the people who have been perfectly kind and supportive of _Canopus _so far –I'm sorry if you've actually had to read through that entire rant up there. As you can probably tell, this issue has been grating on my nerves for awhile, and I guess you can say that I received one too many… _complaints _after the last update.

(If you really want to try and get in a _discussion _about what you see 'wrong' in the story with me, at least make an account on this site and have the nerve to PM me. I don't bite without reason.)

… Anyways.

Next chapter will continue with the Choice battle. Yuni should be making her entrance as well, if everything goes as planned. I wonder why Yuuto is on Byakuran's side? Isn't he supposed to be Tsuna's Mist Guardian?

(Whistles)

…

**QUESTION: **Prediction time! Do you think the outcome of the Choice match will turn out differently with Setsu's and Yuuto's involvement? Why or why not? :3

Also, I've posted a **new story** titled _Drown, _featuring a Reincarnated!Antagonist!OC who is Bluebell's older brother (y'know, the one that died in KHR canon?). Check it out if you're interested –I'm still a little undecided as to whether I should continue it or leave it as a one-shot.

… Or maybe we'll just wait and see if the plot bunnies come back, I guess. Meh.

-XxZuiliu


	12. CXI-CXX

**CXI.**

"_I love you."_

_Warm, expressive, golden eyes. Silken hair so very soft to the barest touch, feeling almost as if it were spun from threads of sunlight. Fair skin, coupled by a rosy glow._

"_I love you, Yuuto."_

_Beautiful, radiant smile. Bright laughter. Teasing grins._

"_I… love you, Yuuto…"_

_Blood._

_Warm eyes growing cold, bright laughter fading away to nothingness. The luster disappearing from her hair. Dimming smile, ashen skin._

_Blood._

_There was so much blood._

_There was so much _blood.

_There was so much blood, and he couldn't–!_

_Blood trailed from the edge of her mouth as she slumped in his arms, impossible still, limp fingers loosely intertwined with his own before dropping entirely from his grasp. And he could only sit and stare as the last dredges of life disappeared from her body. As her blood pooled over the marble steps and cooled and–_

_These injuries on her body –he recognized them; who else's handiwork would it be? Who else could it be? Who else would _dare?

_(How could she do this to her, to the love of his life?)_

…

_The world around them continued to burn in the hellish depths of those hungry, twisting flames._

_Indigo flames._

**CXII.**

The scowl on the silver-haired swordsman's face deepened upon catching sight of that face. Gods, how he wanted to jump down there and carve that fucking little piece of shit into a million little pieces…

(It didn't even matter which one he was anymore, Aconito or Yuuto; as long as that _thing_ was _dead._)

"What the hell is going on?!"

Shock. The brats were in shock –and here Squalo felt his lip curl. Honestly, had there ever been any point to keeping them ignorant of Yuuto's defection? If they had known of it beforehand, perhaps they wouldn't be as affected by it later on, when they inevitably saw that Yuuto stood across from them on the battleground.

Much like the young Decimo's precarious situation right now. His movements had been shot to hell ever since Torikabuto revealed his true identity, barely managing to keep ahead of the downright _vicious _attacks being launched at him –on one hand, the fluffy-haire brat probably still regarded Torikabuto as the Mist Funeral Wreath and a legitimate _danger, _but on the other hand, he couldn't take his eyes off of Yuuto's face. Yuuto, who he somehow still saw as a fucking _friend._

Tch.

These brats were all too soft–

"_Stop this, Yuuto!"_

Butterflies.

Pale white butterflies, tinged with indigo, fluttering down and converging upon the duo from every direction. Thousands of butterflies coalescing into a vaguely humanoid shape, and–

Squalo choked on thin air.

"Setsu?" Dino wasn't much subtler than he was, the blond Cavallone's jaw dropping wide open. "What the he –wait, isn't she supposed to be in the base with Shouichi? How in the world did she just–"

"It doesn't fucking matter!" Squalo roared, slamming his hand down on the table and turning to leave. Panic –how long had it been since he had last felt anything close to this emotion beating in his chest? Not since his sister had– "Voi, I'm going down there and–"

"You extremely can't!" The Vongola brat's Sun Guardian scowled, grabbing him by the arm, and Squalo scowled right back at the kid.

"Ryohei is right," Dino placed a hand on his shoulder, and the silver-haired swordsman shook him off. Both of them off. "Squalo! Calm down! If any of us go down and interfere with their battle, it will count as an automatic forfeit for Vongola! We can't afford for that to happen!"

"_Does it look like I fucking care?"_

He couldn't let Stella fight Torikabuto again. He _couldn't._

**CXIII.**

How strange.

She recognized him –Yuuto was her blood brother, how could she not recognize him? How could she not recognize him, even so twisted and distorted like this?

But it's strange, how –standing across from him, using the butterflies that Mukuro had given to her as her box weapon, letting those butterflies dance around her in a veritable snowstorm as she peered at that man in front of her–it was… hard, almost, to look into those cracked, darkened eyes, and see him for the boy that he was, the man that he had become.

How strange.

Standing across her brother and staring at him… except, somehow… it felt as if she was staring at a stranger instead, no matter the familiar face and familiar flames.

(Those eyes were so _foreign _to her.)

…

No.

No, not a stranger.

Aconito.

Aconito, wasn't it?

"_You._" The familiar-not familiar man's lip curled, eyes dancing with a devilish glow as gray eyes deepened to indigo –no. No. _No._ No, this wasn't _Yuuto_, this couldn't be, this was… Aconito, wasn't it? "So you have come to this world, too? Pity. You should've stayed dead."

No, Yuuto wouldn't speak to her this way…?

"You should be dead, too." She is frozen in shock by the words that come out of her mouth, by the way she slowly holds out her arms, commanding the butterflies swirl to a stop. Because _these are not her actions, _and _these are not her words _as her mouth continues to move and speak on its own. "I remember. I killed you with my own two hands, Aconito. You were nothing but a shapeless lump of flesh by the time I was through with you. Or… don't tell me, Byakuran was able to somehow save you before he tore my heart out?"

The man-wearing-Yuuto's-face cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I am not Aconito. But it is indeed true that he survived that battle by Byakuran-sama's grace. He didn't die that day. You, on the other hand, are undeniably _dead, _Stella."

Something in her twisted and broke loose at hearing that name fall from his lips, as if that was all the push that Stella needed to come forth. To be called by name. To be called by _anyone_ –wasn't that how she had built Marion, when others had called and she had heard their voices–

Like a dam spilling forth, starlit waves crashing over her mind and–

Darkness.

…

…

…

… **Hm? Who did you say was undeniably dead, child?**

**CXIV.**

Tsuna gaped as Setsu was engulfed in a torrent of Mist flames –not unlike what Mukuro and Chrome had done so many countless times before, except… except there was something _wrong _about this, except–

"At last, you have come." Yuuto's voice was low and mocking as he regarded the… silver-haired girl. Silver hair, bone-white pale, sickly appearance–

Eyes hazel and ringed with Mist flames as she stood, an apparition of the Mist itself.

_This is wrong._

_Who is she?_

_What happened to Setsu?_

**Of course I have come. You called for me, did you not, Aconito?**

"I'm not Aconito!" Yuuto snapped at the girl, who wore a regal look of amusement over her face as the butterflies around her slowly disappeared. She closed the pale indigo box and snapped her fingers, letting it vanish.

**Liar.**

"No. I'm not a liar. Not like _you." _There was something strangely accusing in Yuuto's hate-filled glare towards the silver-haired girl, "Aconito is dead. I took this mask from him. He is _dead."_

**Silly boy.**

The girl shook her head, a cruel smile dancing over pale lips.

**Aconito is using you. He only needs that mask to survive –or maybe not even that mask, not anymore. Who knows if he still needs a focus for performing possessions?**

"No one is using me!"

Tsuna felt a shiver of apprehension trail down his spine when the girl simply smirked.

**Really, now? Just who are you trying to convince here? Me… or you?**

At those words, Yuuto's body instantly burst into a thousand sea snakes that lunged at the silver-haired girl in Setsu's place, and Tsuna was about to use the mantle again to protect them when–

The girl pulled out Setsu's Vongola Box and lit up the Mist Ring glittering on her finger.

**Fool.**

**CXV.**

"Ne, ne, Byakuran, who's that? Where did the other girl go?"

The white-haired teen grinned at the little blue-haired girl curled against his side.

"Stella Squalo. She's an old acquaintance who hitched a ride in Setsuko's mind. Her appearance makes the battle more interesting, no? I wonder how Yuuto-kun will fare against her."

"Eh? Stella Squalo? Isn't that–"

"–The girl who killed Yuuto's wife, before he solicited Aconito's help and took revenge? That's ab-so-lute-ly right, Bluebell."

**CXVI.**

"_What?!"_

Dino grimaced. He had hoped that there would be a gentler way to break the news to the kids, but…

"Stella is… old-school mafia." He sighed, "When she found out that Yuuto's wife had… _possible _connections to Byakuran's spy network, she… may have been a little hasty in judgment, in deciding to kill her, but she was perfectly within her rights to–"

"Let me get this straight. She killed someone for something she _thought _they _might _have done with no _actual _proof?"

Well, when they put it that way…

"And if the woman really turned out to be a spy selling Vongola's secrets?" Squalo scowled at the group of brats. "Any lapse in judgment would've allowed her to escape."

"But why _kill?"_

Squalo valiantly resisted the urge to slam the brat's head into the table.

"This is the fucking _mafia_, brat. If you're not ready to kill and die, then get out of here."

**CXVII.**

_There is no boat in the lake, not anymore. Restless waters swirl into crashing tidal waves, growing higher and higher and higher still, and it takes all she has to summon a simple piece of driftwood and stay afloat in the raging tempest._

"_Stella!" She shouts into the storm, "Stella, stop this! I have to–"_

There is nothing you have to do.

You are not ready to fight Yuuto. If you face him as you are, you will die.

I'm doing you a favor here –live on in my memories, child.

_Another tidal wave drags her under, but she sends out a tendril of Mist flames to part the waters before her before she is dragged to the bottom of the lake._

_And she hears Stella's voice again._

There is nothing you can do.

You are weak.

You are weak because you lack ambition.

Purpose.

Resolve.

_Her legs shake under the force of the waters bearing down on her, but she refuses to retreat. Even though this is Stella –monster from birth and the woman who single-handedly created Marion and upheld the Squalo House, who slaughtered any who dared oppose her and annihilated the Estraneo Famiglia that wronged her–_

_She can't._

_She can't retreat._

_She can't back down._

_She _won't.

_Yuuto. She has to help Yuuto. Sousei. Sousei is still waiting for her. Tsuna. Tsuna is relying on her for the Choice battle. All of them are relying on her. And Superbi. And Mukuro. And–_

You are weak because you cling to useless attachments.

_Stella's voice is a soft, quiet whisper that rings with truth and nothing but the absolute truth._

You are weak because you cling to compassion.

Empathy.

Kindness.

Such naivety, child…

"_It's not naivety." She coughs, spitting water from her throat. Defiantly, she looks up and stares straight into the Mist-filled sky. "It's not. It's called being human. Having a heart."_

Humans are weak.

What does the cruelty of the world care for the matters of the heart?

Can you stop Byakuran by telling him of human kindness?

"_You're wrong." Her voice comes out steady. Steadier than it ever has in a long, long time. "If you truly think that Stella, you are just as bad as Byakuran."_

You presume to lecture me?

_Quiet._

_Dangerous._

_The waters hovering around her suddenly crash down, swirling and spinning into a vortex. A whirlpool, sucking everything into bottomless darkness._

You believe that you are strong?

Do not make me laugh.

Where do you think your strength comes from?

_Her Mist flames light up the darkness, but it is only a tiny spark against the endless sky stretching above her that burns with Stella's will._

Make no mistake, child.

This strength you have is _mine. _

You live on borrowed strength.

You do not draw strength from yourself, but me and from others around you.

How in the world can you even think to protect them from harm if you are so very, very weak?

_The relentless waters draw her closer to the brink of oblivion._

Without me, you are nothing.

_A note of finality in Stella's voice._

Goodbye, child.

_The waters close above her._

This life is mine to live.

…

…

…

… _And she sees it._

_In the maelstrom of darkness. Of crashing waves. Of endless night._

_She sees it._

_A single spot of brightness._

_A butterfly._

_And then they come –a torrent, a blizzard, a snowstorm; thousands of butterflies flying on the wings of fragmented memories. Of eating cake and playing games and running along with Reborn's schemes, of laughing with friends and watching fireworks and–_

What is this?

What are you doing?

Why?

–_crashing against Stella's waves. Stella's waves consist of nothing but blood and pain and suffering and endless screams, and of the single intense desire to protect those precious few she held dear to her heart–_

_Will._

_This is a battle of wills._

_The desire to live._

_Dying will._

…

_Who does Stella have to live for? Superbi. Alfredo. Faust. Xanxus, maybe._

_Who does Setsu have to live for? All of them. All of the precious people that Stella would kill and die and live for. But she also wants to live for Mukuro. For Tsuna. Yuuto. Sousei. Fuuta. Yamamoto. Gokudera–_

_She has so, so very many people to live for._

_And._

_So._

_She._

_Will._

Live.

…

…

…

_The millions upon millions of butterflies beat their wings in tandem, driving back the relentless storm, slowly but surely–_

You… why are you doing this?

Why?

Do you know what this means?

If you think to confront me so that only one of us will be left_–_

Don't you know what you stand to lose?

"_Yes."_

_She… she wants to live._

… So be it.

…

…

…

"_I'm sorry, Stella. Yuuto is right –your time is over."_

_The butterflies surge forward in one last, massive push, and the world turned blindingly white under the flutter of their wings._

…

…

…

_And the lake calmed and grew still._

**CXVIII.**

Stella smiled.

It wasn't a cold, cruel smile; nor was it a soft, gentle one. It was a rather curious sort of smile –as if she had learned some amusing little secret that no one else knew of, that no one else would ever know of– and then she raised the Vongola Mist Box in her hand, recalling the Mist owl that had flown out.

Yuuto landed on the ground opposite to her, watching the silver-haired monster with a wary look in his eyes. It had taken a joint effort between himself and Aconito to bring her down, and even then it had been a close call, only Setsu's momentary emergence that had broken the monster's concentration and–

Focus.

Focus on the monster.

What was the monster playing at with that smile?

He opens his mouth.

"What are you–"

**Farewell.**

The word hadn't been intended for him.

Then who–?

He cursed as the monster abruptly vanished in a blaze of Mist flames, and–

**CXIX.**

"_Attention. Attention, all participants of Choice. We are now currently verifying the status of the Targets who have been downed simultaneously. Please remain on standby until we of the Cervello can reach a conclusion regarding the outcome of this match."_

**CXX.**

The target on Daisy's chest blazed to life again, while Shouichi's remained dull and blank.

…

"We have confirmed the status of the Targets," the pink-haired woman stood up from where she was crouched by the motionless redhead's side. "Irie Shouichi's target marker has been fully extinguished, while Daisy's has not. Thus, we declare–"

"_Are you so sure of that, Cervello?"_

The woman took a startled step backwards as Shouichi's bloodied corpse suddenly dissolved into indigo-tinged butterflies, which fluttered away and disappeared into thin air right before their eyes.

"What–"

"I left a butterfly with Shouichi when I ran after Yuuto, just in case something like this happened." Setsu stepped into view, right hand grasping onto the stumbling redhead's left, who was dragged out into the limelight with her. Both of them looked beaten and battered and more than a little worse for the wear –but the target marker on Shouichi's chest still burned brightly with Sun flames. "Kikyo only hit an illusion I set up beforehand. Shouichi is fine."

She hooked her fingers into the wireless mouthpiece on the side of her face and lifted it closer to her lips.

"Hear that, Tsuna, Yamamoto? _Shouichi is fine."_ She stressed the last few words, taking advantage of the moment of shock that held everything still. "Gokudera and I can take care of things here. You guys just focus on taking down the Millefiore target, alright?"

A deathly silence.

And then:

Somehow, Kikyo remained remarkably composed when he spoke again.

"My mistake, then. I was hasty." He stepped over smoothly, and the only reason she stood her ground was because it felt as if her legs would give out under her if she took another step anywhere. "I suppose I should've expected something like this with you on the field, Stella Squalo."

She shakes her head.

"Setsu, not Stella." Shouichi gives her a startled look at this, but she doesn't turn to look at him. Not at this moment, when they can no longer afford any more slip-ups, when they have reached the crux of the match. The well of power inside her, the Mist that had always accompanied her –a portion of it was just _gone, _the portion that had been purely Stella and not Setsu and now Stella was– "I will not allow you to win. Byakuran must not complete the Tri-ni-sette. Ever."

The Millefiore Cloud's face twists into an ugly expression at that light proclamation, and–

Everything suddenly burst into motion again.

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Finally done with the main part of the whole Stella/Setsu mixup thing. Kinda glad that's over with now, haha. :3 Make no mistake, I'm fond of Stella, too, but in this story that focuses on Setsu _–_it's kind of inevitable that Stella would get viewed as an antagonist. From her perspective, she wants to get out so she can continue protecting the people precious to her, and Setsu is only an obstacle in her way. And we all know that Stella has no problems with being cruel and ruthless in order to get things done. In comparison, her initial decision to just lock Setsu away is fairly tame. It's only Setsu's refusal to roll over and let her take over, instead fighting back, that instigates the battle between them.

Choice will officially end next chapter, and… anyone feeling excited to be seeing Yuni soon? Epic Boss of the Arcobaleno and all that jazz?

(Actually, I blame _Truth of the Sky_ by **LeoInuyuka** for that last sentence. xD No, I assure you that the Yuni in _Canopus _won't be as… eccentric. In case you're worried about that lol.)

We're almost through with the Future arc. 1-2 more chapter(s), I think. And then comes the Shimon Arc… that Setsu might be skipping out on a little. Kinda. Maybe. xD Shimon Arc will probably be shorter than the Future arc, and then we have the Rainbow Curse Arc… dunno how long I want that to be. I might stick in another extra or omake soon, but don't take my word for it. :D

**QUESTION: **What are your thoughts on Yuuto so far?

* * *

_10/04/14 Story stats rundown:_

Posted _Diamond Dust _earlier today. It's the whole one-shot/drabble collection thing with OCxCC pairings (kind of) where I'm taking requests/prompts from readers. First story is ShamalOC.

_Drown _should be continued, too. :3 Dunno when I'll get around to typing the next chapter, but I have a general idea of where I want to go with it. Most likely, _Drown _will end up 4-5 chapters long in total. I think.

_Onwards Till Dawn… _is… a little slow going. Still emailing drafts back and forth with XxZuiyun, and that's on top of our schoolwork. = = We typed up half the chapter, only to then decide that we want to move a certain event so that it happens much later in the story, and… yeah, re-working a lot of our original plans for the Future Arc right now. Hopefully we'll sort it out and finish the next chapter soon, yeah?

* * *

Also. Kind of. Just a little curious about it and going off on a completely unrelated tangent here. For you other fanfic writers out there, do you usually listen to music when you write? If so, what kind? :3

(I listen to random bgm on youtube, like, 60% of the time while I write fanfics. xD For anyone who might happen to be interested in that random tidbit, of course.)

Till next time, everyone!

XxZuiliu


	13. CXXI-CXXX (Extra: Halloween Omake)

**CXXI.**

_Twist and let go, just like opening the handle of a door._

She inhales sharply as Kikyo throws Cloud flames in their direction, tugging on the Mist flames flickering inside her body –and she knows what they see, knows that they see her and Shouichi dissolving into a hundred tiny little butterflies again as they make their escape–

"Going somewhere?"

Yuuto.

_Yuuto._

Her butterflies twist and tumble and fall apart as sea snakes tear into them with vicious glee and suddenly her brother is _there, _gray eyes flashing with pain and anger and a murderous intent so heavy that it wraps around her neck and _chokes her._ For a terrifying, dizzying moment, she can't breathe anymore –something tangible-intangible constricting tightly around her throat as her lungs burn and–

And this time, it's Shouichi who saves her, tackling her to the ground just in time so that another wave of sea snakes barely miss biting off her head.

"Drop the act, Stella," her brother hisses. "You think that wearing my sister's face will make me hesitate? I advise you to _think again."_

But.

But she's not.

She's not _Stella._

(Not anymore, and she can now say those words with firm conviction. _She is not Stella._ She is not a ghost.)

"But I'm Setsu–"

_Open the doorway. Step through. Step through, quickly, before it's too late._

She reaches out with her Mist flames and _opens _that doorway in the back of her mind, flitting into the Mist and dragging Shouichi along with her, and then they appear at the end of the street in a thunderous storm of lilac butterflies swirling through the air.

The space they had formerly occupied is now riddled with Mist-snakes and Cloud flames in a brilliant inferno, a conflagration of burning will.

She suppresses a shiver at the thought of being caught in it. If she had been a single second slower–

"This way!"

She stumbles, as Gokudera grabs her arm and sets her in front of him on his motorbike. With Shouichi sitting behind them, it's a tight fit all around –but considering the situation, comfort is the least of their priorities at the moment.

It takes a heart-stopping moment before she finally grasps hold of the flickering Mist inside herself and throws it over them as a minor concealment illusion.

She weaves the layers of deception one on top of another as quickly as she can, doggedly working through her exhaustion because she knows that this is a battle they cannot afford to lose, not with the Tri-ni-sette at stake.

(Just what is the Tri-ni-sette, anyways? Stella had known, but she was not Stella. She only had a vague intuition guiding her along now, a not-quite sixth sense telling her that the Tri-ni-sette was power and balance and _life;_ that Byakuran absolutely must not be allowed to get his hands on it because he was a demon and he would use it to–)

"_Trying to run away? Why are you hiding now, Stella?"_

He tears it.

He tears it apart by focusing his own Mist into a needle-thin point and _plunging down. _The topmost layer is the first to break, along with the second, and he keeps forcing his Mist _down down down _and poisoning her own, undoing her illusions and unraveling it all and letting it fall apart and she can't keep them together–

How can he do this so easily?

(You are weak. This strength you have is _mine. _You live on borrowed strength, child. Without me, you are nothing.)

An echo of Stella's words amidst the tumultuous waters. She shivers involuntarily at the icy words.

And.

"Oi, get yourself together!" Gokudera snarls at her, startling her with the sheer ferocity of his tone. His hands clench tightly on her shoulders. "What the hell do you think you're doing, spacing out like that?!"

Too late.

It's too late.

Her illusions shatter and break, and the butterflies quietly scatter to the four corners of the wind.

**CXXII.**

"Ehh, he's seriously going to try and fight Kikyo and Torikabuto at the same time? What an idiot."

"Now, now, Bluebell-chan," Byakuran patted the little girl's head absentmindedly, staring intently at the projection screen in front of them, where Gokudera had brought out the Sistema CAI again. "It's not like he's left with any other choice, is there?"

Bluebell puffed up her cheeks.

"Well, he's still an idiot. There's no way any of them are strong enough to fight two of us at the same time."

"Of course not."

Gokudera is talented, Gokudera is good, but Gokudera still isn't quite strong enough to fight two Funeral Wreaths simultaneously and still come out on top. Setsuko stands behind him, throwing illusions left and right and countering Yuuto's sea snakes to the best of her ability –a small frown of concentration etched onto her face, gritting her teeth… but no matter what she does, no matter how hard she tries, it's obvious that her performance is waning.

Rapidly.

It's very… un-Stella-like. He of all people would know how stubborn that girl was, that refusal to bow or show weakness. Even when he had killed her, she still dared defy him with a blood-flecked smile.

What was it that she had said again?

"_You will never complete the Tri-ni-sette, Byakuran."_

…

His lips twitched, and Byakuran laughed.

**CXXIII.**

It's Daisy who saves them.

Or rather, it's Tsuna who throws Daisy –the green-haired man crashing into Yuuto head over heels and throwing Kikyo off balance entirely– that saves them. Blood stains the ground in a heavy pool; Gokudera stumbles and she catches the crook of his arm before he can fall over (it's a close call –for a moment, she thought the two of them would topple to the ground together). He mutters something under his breath and attempts to shove her aside and stand on his own, but the effort is half-hearted at best.

Because.

Because there's so much blood.

Setsu has never liked the sight of blood, and so she very carefully does not pay attention to her left arm, where Yuuto's sea snakes had–

Right, not thinking about it.

…

… Still.

Yuuto.

It's _Yuuto._

The one who had attacked her so relentlessly, who had _aimed to kill _–it wasn't Aconito, it was _Yuuto._ She would know –there was still a faint thread of _something else_ in the mask that her brother held, something that she was fairly sure was Aconito-Torikabuto, but it hadn't been Aconito who tried to kill her.

It had been Yuuto.

… _Why…?_

She doesn't understand, and it's _frustrating._ Yuuto is her brother, and she just doesn't –she only wants to stop him, she doesn't want to _hurt_ him, not like… not like how he wants to hurt her. To hurt Stella.

(Stella and Setsuko are one and the same, yet completely different entities at the same time. She would know, better than anyone else could ever hope to even begin understanding.)

"Why do you hate me?" She asks, and it's a question that receives no answer as Yuuto simply waves his hands and sends another tide of snakes towards her again. Tsuna counters by covering them all with his mantle box-weapon, casting a worried look over his shoulder at them.

"Are you guys alright?"

"Don't worry about us, Juudaime!" Gokudera is quick to answer, and Shouichi follows the boy's lead with a quick nod. She simply smiles –a small, helpless little sort of a sad smile– but Tsuna seems to understand. Somehow.

(Hyper intuition.)

When the mantle disappears and they ready themselves to face their opponents again, something is… different.

Light.

A soft, warm light.

Rainbow…?

(Arcobaleno.)

**CXXIV.**

Yuni is the Sky Arcobaleno.

(Reborn shooting Byakuran's hand to keep the white-haired man away from the sweet little girl is only further proof of this undeniable fact, this immovable truth before their faces.)

The battle comes to a standstill when the white-clad girl announces that a fight for the Tri-ni-sette invalid, when she declares her own resignation from the Millefiore –_after_ she revealed the light of the pacifiers that she carried in her arms. Pacifiers that she had taken from Byakuran.

"They don't belong to you." Calm blue eyes, shining with a wisdom beyond her years. "Byakuran, the Tri-ni-sette is not your plaything."

Setsu isn't quite sure what to think of Yuni.

Part of her admires the girl's resolve –that willingness to sacrifice her famiglia for the sake of keeping the Arcobaleno pacifiers away from Byakuran– while the other part of her is simply appalled by it. _Yuni is willing to let her famiglia die at Byakuran's hands._

It… doesn't sit well with her.

Even though she knows that this is the best decision, when looking at the grand scheme of things.

Everything begins to border on chaos once again as Tsuna reaches out and takes Yuni's hand, giving her the protection of Vongola. The Funeral Wreaths are quick to obey Byakuran's orders of seizing the green-haired girl –_unharmed–_ but this time their goal isn't to defeat the Millefiore soldiers; their goal is to escape.

Escape, and keep Yuni safe.

… It's much harder than it sounds to do so.

**CXXV.**

(It's hard, seeing her like this.)

"Kufufu. Having trouble, are we?" He laughs lightly and allows none of his inner turmoil to show, idly taking note of how her eyes widen with something akin to surprise at his sudden appearance in front of her.

(He tells himself it doesn't hurt. Why should it hurt? He knows perfectly well that she is not…)

It's easy enough to wind an arm around her waist and tuck her close to his body, spinning to the side and letting the sea snakes bury themselves into the asphalt ground harmlessly. It's not as easy to ignore the way she tenses against him as if to pull away, before letting him carry her along.

"… Mukuro?"

It's the same voice. Younger and edged with fatigue, slightly hoarse, but… it's still the same voice.

(It doesn't hurt.)

_You foolish girl _is what he wants to say to her, but what comes out instead is a teasing, "Aren't you glad to see me?"

She blinks wide grey eyes at him. Such a lovely shade of gray.

"Why… why are you here?"

_Why did you come?_

(For you. Because I made the mistake of staying away before, when I should have…)

"Why shouldn't I be here?" he muses aloud in response, keeping an eye on the battlefield. The Decimo and the rest of his merry group are close to the teleportation device now –she needed to be with them. With _them–_

"I'm not Stella."

–and right now Byakuran was bearing down on them, reaching out for the young Sky Arcobaleno–

He looks her straight in the eyes and laughs lightly.

"I know."

He takes a single step backward, falling into the Mist –_open the doorway, step through–_ and for a moment, his mind is filled with the image of that startled surprise spreading across her face, that _relief._

And when he steps out of the Mist and directly into Byakuran's path, feeling the hand tear through his body as he engulfed both of them in a torrent of flames–

…

Somehow.

Somehow, it didn't quite hurt so much anymore.

**CXXVI.**

Although they have escaped successfully, Setsu can't help but wonder.

She wonders if she would have escaped with the rest of them if it hadn't been an illusion of Mukuro stalling Byakuran for them, but Mukuro in the flesh standing there to face certain death.

She doesn't know what her answer to that would be.

(And she isn't certain if she wants to know.)

**CXXVII.**

"_But I'm Setsu–"_

_Liar._

…

"_Why do you hate me?"_

_Because you're a monster._

…

"_I'm not Stella."_

_(The blue-haired man laughed.)_

"_I know."_

…

_Liar. Liar. LIAR._

…

(Where do the lies end and truth begin? Or is there even any truth present at all? What is fake and what is real?)

"Hurry up, Torikabuto."

A stumble.

He stumbles over thin air as he makes to follow the other Funeral Wreaths trailing after Byakuran –_It'll take awhile to get the device up and running again; be ready–_ and Yuuto grits his teeth when his body suddenly spasms involuntarily; convulsing–

"_Stay down, Aconito."_ He hisses, clutching at his head. Control. He _needed_ to stay in control– _"Stay where you are, where you belong. I will not allow you to devour me, not like Stella did my sister… sT__**A**__y D__**e**__A__**D, a**__C__**o**__NI__**tO**__."_

…

…

…

(Yuuto does not see the white-haired man smile, nor does he see the scowl on the demon mask momentarily shift into a grinning leer.)

**CXXVIII.**

"Setsu?"

Sousei hates himself for how his hand hesitates before gently resting itself on his sister's shoulder –_Setsu, not Stella_– but he can't help it. He knows, but… but it's not so easy to make the distinction. To believe that this is _real_, that this isn't another of Stella's…

"I'm okay, onii-chan." The little girl smiles, and it's such a sad, tremulous little smile. "I'm okay."

"You're not," he exhales lowly. "Yuuto… he's not… it's not what you…"

_It's complicated._

"… Please tell me why, onii-chan?" She asks, gray eyes blinking slowly. _Gray eyes._ "When I was with the Varia, they never… I've always assumed… why did Yuuto…?"

"They didn't tell you?"

He's not surprised. Knowing Squallo, that damned Varia swordsman…

"Tell me," she says again, and this time it's not a question. It's a plea, and that is what makes Sousei finally cave and tell her the story as he knows it from beginning to end. How Stella came forth and Setsu withered silently. How Yuuto met Eleanor, and Stella took her away.

He tells her how she died, and Setsu listens quietly to all of it.

When he is finished, she stands up and gives him a gentle hug.

"I'm sorry, onii-chan. Sorry for making you suffer through this. I'm sorry…"

His arms reach up and embrace her in return.

**CXXIX.**

She is with Sousei when the Funeral Wreaths attack.

Luckily, it isn't hard to find them after they have left the base –Sousei knows the layout of the underground base well, and this knowledge is put to use as they wait at the end of the street for the others to come.

"Where's Superbi?" is the first question out of her mouth when she sees the group running over.

The lack of response to that query is more telling than words could ever be.

"Don't." For a moment, she considers disobeying the Sun Arcobaleno. "Squalo knew what he was getting himself into when he volunteered to stay behind. Have faith."

**CXXX.**

"_Well? Come in. You're being chased, aren't you?"_

* * *

_Extra._

* * *

**Bonus: Halloween Omake.**

…

_There lives a ghost._

_In the old house over the hill, there lives a ghost. A ghost that longs for vengeance on the ones who wronged it in life –a ghost that holds nothing in its chest but a malicious hatred for the entire world; a hatred darker than the blackest night._

_There lives a ghost._

_…_

…

"This is stupid."

"Shh!" Tsuna panicked immediately, limbs flailing wildly and brown eyes widening as he quickly glanced around for a certain baby hitman to appear, "D-Don't say that, Yuuto!"

"Well, _someone_ has to point it out," the illusionist-in-training rolled his eyes. "I mean, really. We're dressed up like thieves, armed with rotten eggs and toilet paper, and our goal is to vandalize that abandoned house at the end of the street. Tell me, how this _not_ stupid?"

"Haha, don't be like that, Yuuto." Yamamoto reached over and slung an arm around his fellow baseball player. "C'mon, admit it. Don't you think this is actually kind of fun?"

"This is stupid," Yuuto repeated himself, but this time it was in a rather resigned sort of way. "This is really, really stupid. Why in the world are we even doing this again?"

Gokudera glared at him from where he had been concentrating on hiding behind a trash bin.

"Shut up. Reborn said there's a ghost living there in the house –just think! A real UMA!"

_"… What?"_

"The kid's story was pretty interesting," Yamamoto grinned cheerfully, obliviously. Yuuto valiantly resisted the urge to face-palm. "I dunno if there are really ghosts in this world, but you have to admit –strange lights and suspicious howls sound rather–"

"Shh!"

There.

There it was.

Goosebumps broke out across the skin on his back when the dark window of the creepy-looking house suddenly _flashed green_ and _purple smoke_ clouded the broken glass, seeping out through the edges of the window frames and slowly dissipating into the night air.

Yuuto swallowed roughly.

(He wasn't… he wasn't _scared,_ but… something like this; it wasn't natural. Definitely, definitely not natural.)

… This was so stupid. Why in the world did he even agree to come? He should've taken up Setsu's offer to go over to a friend's house and help them cook, or simply stay at home with Sousei and read a book or two–

"There! Look! That must mean that the UMA has…" Yuuto tuned out Gokudera's excited ramblings. In all honesty, the silver-haired boy seemed the most excited about this venture out of the four of them. Yamamoto seemed happy enough to go along with the flow, while Tsuna seemed to share similar apprehensions to him.

… Oh gods, were he and Tsuna the only sane ones in this group?

…

Curse Reborn and his harebrained schemes.

Why oh _why _did he agree to come?!

"To catch the UMA…" Gokudera reached into the bucket and took one of the rotten eggs, carefully taking aim and–

_**BOOM!**_

"HIEEE!" Tsuna's shriek sounded directly next to his ears as _the window shattered._ Gokudera froze, the egg still clutched in his hand. The smile on Yamamoto's face was a tad more rigid now, and Yuuto…

All he could remember now was the ghost story that Reborn had been telling them earlier today.

_…_

_There lives a ghost._

_In the old house over the hill, there lives a ghost. A ghost that longs for vengeance on the ones who wronged it in life –a ghost that holds nothing in its chest but a malicious hatred for the entire world; a hatred darker than the blackest night._

_There lives a ghost._

_A spirit that sits quietly in solitude. Watching. Waiting. It sits and waits until the night of All Hallow's Eve, the moment when its hatred burns brightest and strongest._

_It is said that if one comes and destroys its dwelling at this time, the anchor that ties it to this mortal plane, then the ghost will pass on and all will be well._

_If not, then:_

_A curse._

_The ghost will curse any and all who dare cross its path with the miasma that curls from its vengeful memories, a poison that leeches life from the living to prolong its existence._

…

_There lives a ghost._

_…_

…

Miasma.

Purple mist.

There was a gaseous purple mist that was billowing out through the windows, melting everything within reach and rapidly approaching their position–

"RUN!"

Never again, Yuuto firmly decided, fighting back the urge to cry hysterically as he _ran._ He wasn't quite entirely successful. Why did these ridiculous things always happen around him?!

Next time, no matter what Reborn 'advised' them to do–

_Never again._

…

…

…

(The violet haze eventually cleared, revealing the charred ruins of what had once been a simple house.

Setsu coughed.

"Chrome, where on earth did you find that recipe? I don't think baking a cake warrants blowing up an entire house. I know that Kokuyo Land doesn't have any ovens, but I really doubt there are any other abandoned houses equipped with ovens that we can use to experiment."

The blue-haired girl fiddled her fingertips together as the Mist shield around them flickered and faded, the purple gas having finally disappeared.

"U-um… I got the recipe from Bianchi."

The smaller girl shook her head in amazement, letting out a low whistle.

"And Ken actually ate the earlier test trials you made here?"

"Yes…?"

"… Wow.")

* * *

.

…

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Halloween omake. :3 Poor Yuuto lol. xD Just in case it wasn't clear enough –Reborn set up the boys to go 'redecorate' a 'haunted' house in the neighborhood, where Chrome had been trying out Bianchi's cake recipe the past few days. That's where all the strange phenomenon comes from. :D

…

Whew. It's been awhile since the last update, hasn't it? Aaaaand continuing on with the story here. :3 Originally, I was aiming to end the Future arc in this chapter, but obviously that isn't happening. Maybe in the next chapter. We're almost there, aren't we? :D

… Y'know, I think I've finally managed to confuse myself with the pairings now. xD Eh, I'm probably going to leave it open-ended again in the end, I think. :D Unless I get convinced otherwise, of course. ;3

* * *

10/31/14 Story stats rundown:

_Onwards Till Dawn_ was updated last week.

_Incandescent_ was posted. First non-OC-centric story! :D

_Drown_ is still in-progress. I have random scenes for the next chapter of it typed up here and there, but I'm not sure when I'll be getting around to finishing the entire chapter.

I'm half-done with a couple drafts for some prompts from _Diamond Dust,_ even though I haven't actually finished any yet. The second story for _Diamond Dust_ will probably be a GokuderaxOC ficlet or a KusakabexOC one, but don't take my word for it. Chances are, it'll be something else entirely, knowing my record. xD Still accepting prompts over there!

* * *

**QUESTION(1): **Any changes in thoughts on Yuuto?

**QUESTION(2): **Chrome/Mukuro, Yuuto, and Setsu. Who do you think will be the Mist Guardian in the end? Any particular reasoning for it or just a random guess? :3

Leave a review, please. :D And till next time, everyone! Happy Halloween!

-XxZuiliu


End file.
